


Seventale: An Undertale AU (Volume One)

by Thakh_Gaii



Series: Seventale: An Undertale AU [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Because We Hurt The Characters We Love, Bipolar Disorder, Chara (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dissociation, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, F/M, Fix-Fic, Fluff and Angst, Frisk (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Funny, Gun Violence, Light Angst, M/M, My First AO3 Post, NO SMUT TILL ARC 4 AT LEAST AND MAYBE NOT THEN, OC's - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", Read by the Author, Someone Save These Children, The Author Regrets Nothing, Therapy, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This looked longer on Google Docs, Trauma, Triggers, everyone has PTSD, i don't know how to write fluff, i know i can't, later on in the story I promise, lots of them - Freeform, please?, sometimes, the kids need therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-22 20:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thakh_Gaii/pseuds/Thakh_Gaii
Summary: Times on the Surface were going okay- Toriel and Sans founded the school, Frisk is doing alright, apart from having people problems, Alphys and Undyne  are married, and overall things are going well. But what happens, when due to a DT surge, the seven humans before Frisk enter their soul, and become voices in their head? Honestly? It gets weird. Really weird.
Relationships: Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Frisk (Undertale) & Original Female Character(s), Sans/Toriel (Undertale)
Series: Seventale: An Undertale AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536211
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. Hippity Hoppity, the broken RESET button is no longer my property!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Two Worlds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500846) by [eney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eney/pseuds/eney), [Spazzin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spazzin/pseuds/Spazzin). 

> Well, the first 8-or-so chapters of this have been directly copy-pasted from Wattpad, so any formatting errors, tell me.  
Hope you enjoy!
> 
> In the work, I made Frisk gender-neutral, even if they were born female. This leads to a fair amount of dysphoria, so, advance warning.
> 
> Another thing, as of 2020|3|1 (Or: 3rd January 2020), the story has gone through some major league editing, so if the first 8-or-so chapters look and feel choppy, apologies in advance.

DISCLAIMER: OF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED UNDERTALE OR KNOW NOTHING ABOUT IT OTHER THAN YOUR FRIEND'S RAVING AND MEMES, GET OUTTA HERE. SPOILERS (watch DanTDM or Markiplier's playthroughs)

\----------------------  
" heh, you actually did it kid. Didn't think you had it in your bones."

The small human and the short skeleton were standing right at the forest's edge, about to enter the town below, and Monsters would finally, finally be free of their mountain prison, the Underground. Too bad it had taken the human 10 deaths, ten loads to make it here. The scars from Undyne's fight left bright, patience coloured blue scars on their legs, promptly hidden by the child's pant leg.

Frisk allowed themselves a chuckle. Besides, what they were about to do? That would be the surprise.

"So, kid. Ya gonna RESET, or what? Will ya hold that false hope that much longer?"  
Frisk just gave the short skeleton a serious look that averted his gaze. They knew what he was talking about. A RESET, allowed the most determined souls to never truly die. Always wake up again, and turn back time.

And it had been used 10 times.  
Twice they'd been to the surface before this, and each time it has barely lasted half an hour. Frisk, as unbeatable as they seemed, was scared of humanity, somehow, and they RESET. Each time, the skeleton's permanent grin became a bit more forced.  
Now, in a turn of events, they knew better.  
Stars Above, this was going to be the best run they'd ever had. And it would never end.

But first the skeleton needed to believe that, and Frisk had to remove temptation.

Sans, let me get this straight. I will never RESET again. And this time? The difference is, I actually won't be able to.  
Frisk signed to him. She had a look of pure, hard DETERMINATION on her face now, not that uncertain expression. It was a promise that had already been broken. Twice.

Santa's eyesockets became pinpricks, just short of going entirely dark.  
"what are you going to do." He didn't know what to expect. Would the kid RESET anyway? Or would they actually stop? In order not to get his hopes up, he settled for the former.

Frisk took him into the LOAD SAVE RESET space, a dark, void-like space, and found the button in question, and raised her fist over it, almost as if she'd press it. Before the Snowdin-hailing skeleton could do anything however, she put her fist right through the glass like button, smashing it to pieces before his eyes. Sans's permanent grin, looked genuine for the first time Frisk had met him. All those timelines ago.

C'mon Sans! Let's see the surface! Properly this time!

\----------------------------------------


	2. 2- Meanwhile...all heck is breaking loose. I'm somehow not surprised.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE FIRST REMASTERED CHAPTER! (yay)
> 
> I really hated the first one, and as you can see, a lot of things like names and settings have changed, along with narration. Don't worry! This isn't a full overhaul, just a stunt to help continuity, and to lessen the cringe xD Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE THAT A CHARACTER HERE WILL USE MODERATELY RACE-MENTIONING LANGUAGE. THE CHARACTER COMES FROM THE 1950's AND IN NO WAY WHATSOEVER EMBODIES THE VEIWS OF THE AUTHOR. READ WITH DISCRETION, PLEASE, AND DON'T SPAM THE COMMENTS. THE CHARACTER NEVER SAYS ANYTHING HURTFUL, SIMPLY POINTS IT OUT

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **

**FOUR YEARS POST-PROLOGUE**

**f / r / i / s / k**

You and Asriel walked back home from the bus-stop,, tired to all heck and back. It had been a pretty challenging school day, or week, really,and you both are ready to just sleep till dinner.

But first, as Alphys always says, check your texts.

And as usual, she’s right. The Discord server is  _ freaking out  _

**SERVER NAME: THE TRIO+ MK sometimes**

**MEMBERS: Li-An Huang , Jacob Wilde , Frisk Hayes , MK**

**MK: yoooooo**

**An-Li: what?**

**Jacob: wut**

**MK: did you hear about the play we’re doing this year????**

Sighing, Frisk starts typing. Their friends are the best. 

**Frisk : Yeah, it was Matilda. The one where the hair goes green instead of blonde.**

**Jacob : Truly the superior version**

**An-Li: sthu**

**Frisk: +1 agree ^**

**Jacob: okkkk さよなあ**

** _Jacob Wilde has ditched you guys_ **

**MK: the chat is sentient FITE ME**

**Frisk: Verdad. Not my fault he can barely Japanese.**

**MK: Can we speak English pls**

**An-Li: okay i guess**

**Frisk : meh**

**MK: yayyy**

**Frisk: Anyways gotta go, super tired**

**MK: RIP mood**

**An-Li: Bai!**

—————————————————-

_ (+Hey…) _

_ Hi Chara! I haven’t seen you much today. _

_ +Sorry, I meant to hang at lunch, but then I found a ghost my age lingering around the football field. _

_ Huh? What’s that about? _

_ +His name is Thomas Spier, he was fourteen years old and died in a car crash. This was his school so he decided to stay.  _

_ Oh, that’s sad. _

_ +The person he’s bonded to doesn’t even know that he exists! _

You HAD to stifle a laugh at that, as to not weird out their brother next door. He still didn’t know that his oldest friend was  _ right there. _

_ +I wish I could tell Ree,, but it would be a bit much for him this early on. You can tell, right? He’s not the same kid I knew anymore. Therapy’s helping, but… _

_ He’s still dealing. But he’s definitely better now. Even Sans has kinda stopped with the horrible plant puns. _

_ +Which are really insensitive! _

_ You do know, Chara, that even with all the therapy and support in the world, he’ll never be the same again, right? _

_ +... Yeah. Still, he eats pie again! Ooh! There’s a ghost in the park! Talk later! _

_ Okay, bye! Be back for dinner. Otherwise mom’s gonna gripe again. _

  
  
  
  


You smile inwardly to yourself- your SOULmate was fun like that. Keeping it real, then balancing stuff up with lighthearted topics.

Still, you had at least two hours till Dinner, so you changed into your pajamas and slept.

Homework can flipping wait for a day.

_ \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  _

It’s at dinner when some of the funnier stuff starts happening.

Toriel comes home first, along with whatever kids take after-school activities, and Amma comes in just in time for dinner to start, trying to massage an aching hand, because she went overboard drawing. Again.

It’s about half an hour into dinner, just when the nightly pop-culture debate is about to start, when your Uncle comes in. He’s been here instead of Chamoli Gopeshwar in India because he’s the best and he wanted to help his older sister out after your dad died. He’s the one with the most stories about the late David Hayes, because your mom cries whenever you bring him up (And no way in hell are you ever going to allow yourself to let your mother cry)

So Daniel Purohit and Emily Hayes-Purohit have finally completed the table, with some more food added on, namely Momos from An-Li and chocolate bars which Chara eyed hungrily.

Sans, currently best friends with your mother, drops in with some of Papyrus’s spaghetti, and engaging in a good ‘ol battle of puns. And they are blushing FURIOUSLY.

(Operation: Matchmaker Trio is a go)

Asgore gets his large form through the doorway soon after, and thank goodness these four years have been good for the old couple, now good friends. It’s light and friendly conversation from there, until Amma comes up with this--

“Hey, Frisk. Do you want to go to the Seven’s Graveyard this weekend?”

The Seven’s Graveyard is a small patch of land at the foot of Mt. Ebott, sparse but beautiful, and left as a memorial for the seven children who’d died to free the Underground. Chara’s grave was long empty, but others needed to be thanked for helping Frisk against Nightmare Flowey. (Not Asriel Not Asriel NoNoNO--)

you stop the memories before they start, and nod in the affirmative to Amma, since she’s the only one who’s never seen the area.

In eleven years, hindsight is 20/20, and that nod had changed your life.

  
  


\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

THE SEVEN’S GRAVEYARD, 9 PM, FEBRUARY FIRST, 201X--

P / a / o / l / o

You wake up.

And there isn’t a trident through your chest.

Huh, that’s weird.

You take stock, like any ballerina worth the number of shoes they’d ever worn.

You don’t have a body.

Well, that explains it.

All around you, more people are waking up.

They are your age.

All of you are ghosts.

You are dark blue, wearing your faithful tutu and (back then) freshly new pair of your first pointe shoes. Your frizzy black hair is in a loose bun, and your shirt pullover is advertising ‘SONIC DRIVE-IN, OKLAHOMA’

The kid next to you is yellow, dressed in British Frugal wear from like, ten years ago. The coat’s nice though. She has a small pistol and a magnifying glass on hand. Looks British too.

The kid on your left is green, with a rather doughy build. He is currently brandishing a small frying pan, and is wearing a chef’s apron reminiscent of the 1890’s, which is a temporal theme from the rest of his gear. (seriously, who wears breeches?). Pale skinned, with baby cheeks.

The kid further in front, just out of arm's reach is purple. She wears a baggy sweater of a very detailed cartoon, and acid washed jeans, which were the new rage. (still? I mean, you’re dead, apparently) Circular glasses, shattered a little, and a notebook were clutched tightly to her chest. She had dark skin, like yours, and a mop of frizzy brown hair till the mid-back.

The kid next to the purple one is a bright, blazing orange, who’s dressed like Bruce Lee from the movies. His hair’s shocked about, and in all directions. Medium-skinned, looks Indian.

The last kid is just behind you, as you notice when you turn around, and he’s cyan in colour. He’s obviously the youngest, and looks like he came from your time period (finally), with a Hawaiian shirt, with the block letters spelling ‘I’M A MAN’ in pink, and has light skin, tanned a bit. He’s---

He can’t be older than four. What the heck, Asgore?

Instinctively, the first name you call out is- “Toriel?”

Everyone turns to look at you.

“You know Toriel too?” ask the Orange and Cyan kids. You and everyone else in that room nod to indicate the positive.

Ohhhh snails.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> さよなあ- Sayonara, Japanese for goodbye.
> 
> So...how was it? Need opinions, people, or constructive criticism. That's good too. Please remember the warning from the beginning notes.


	3. I went to a graveyard for what now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get kinda crazy, and as you can see on the old version of this on Wattpad, there's been a lot of change in events.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRmdZ8hoBwU
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbi7vT90LMA

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**c / h / a / r / a**

This was a  _ terrible _ idea!

Firstly, it’s cold out, because Spring decided to be late, and the snow is in that weird state between ice and snow, and feels all flaky. 

Secondly, there are WAY too many child ghosts waiting around here, and not enough adult ones to even it out. There might be a child killer loose, considering the vibes coming off of the place. And it can’t be the fallen, since their SOULS are at some degree of peace.

But  _ nooo _

Seriously though, those fallen kids probably needed a big ‘ol apology, considering that sacrifice was in vain. 

_ Dammit Dad! I really shouldn’t have died, huh. Stupid Chara. _

“Chara, no bad thoughts, remember? You were stupid, and a kid, and humans suck anyway.”

You feel a tiny smile grace your face. At least your partner shared your human-hating sentiments, even if the memories leading to it weren’t very pleasant whatsoever. Deciding not to dwell on it, you shift your attention to Frisk, who’s getting a half-hearted scolding for being so cynical. Key word: Half-hearted.

“And Chara, if you’re having bad thoughts again, don’t hesitate to come to me, even through Frisk. I can’t wait till I can see you!” She laughs good-naturedly, with a promise in the statement. You are SO glad that she and An-Li stumbled upon a conversation two years ago. Frisk’s mom and uncle, and An-Li are the COOLEST, seconded only by your own resident human.

“Awww, thanks Care! You’re the coolest ghost too!” pipes Frisk.

“You’re welcome, bud.” You mumble, giving Frisk’s shoulder a slight punch that they pull you a bit closer with while they walk side-by side with their mother, who looks upon half the scene with a small smile. “Besides,” you continue; “You’re a human too! So they can’t all suck!”

_ Are we so sure about that? _

You start, hearing the familiar beginnings of self-loathing, and move quick, seeing the smile on their face suddenly become a lot heavier. 

Putting your arm around them, and drawing them close enough that you’re flush against each other, now, you ruffle their hair, while Emily-- _ Mom _ , looks on, encouraging.

_ You’re the first human who gave a failure like me the time of day, so you’ve gotta be pretty awesome yourself. _

_ Okay. But if I’m not going to hate myself right now, you won’t either. _

They join the hug, giving using you as support, even if you’re not quite visible, but you feel your reddish glow strengthen a bit, so that Emily can put their strong, calloused hand on your shoulders in the short corporeal moments you still have. Even when you disappear shortly after, Frisk directs their mother’s hand to your shoulder, even if she can’t feel the touch anymore.

You are so lucky to have this crazy, quirky,  _ awesome _ family.

Frisk smiles, but doesn’t comment when you all reach the graveyard.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emily stays outside the wickerlike gates, leaning on the fences, that look bent and beautiful straight out of a fairy tale.

Frisk takes your hand, walking in. You feel a restless presence here, so you’re already on edge as it is.

Then you see it-

Six other ghosts, in six colours. The SOUL colours.

Frisk’s SOUL is pulled out, and something like a FIGHT is engaged, but there aren’t any attacks available.

But this is where stuff gets kind of crazy. The ghosts look up, and they recognize you, they do, but ten they start moving, towards Frisk, and Frisk can’t even see them. So it’s only when the heart belonging to your partner becomes a technicolour collage of hearts do they notice anything is wrong, and perhaps when they collapse to the ground after, clutching their head, hissing in apparent pain, trying to stand up but being too disoriented to do so.

You hold them up after a minute, and when you asked them what happened, they signed (which means that they are having difficulty speaking, a bad thing in itself) that they’ll tell you when you both got home.

You flatten down their hair to prevent Emily from knowing anything because Frisk’s brain is literally  _ screaming _ to keep this a secret. You see your partner put a small smile in their mother’s direction, nodding, and falling asleep in the cab, which Emily had decided to take instead of walking.

_ (She was right, because the rain hit hard, minutes after you get home, pelting, thrashing, thunder so loud that Asriel got scared and hid under his bed, while Frisk just slept, slept through it all, even the smell of cocoa. You keep your calm, because if you don’t, nobody else will.) _

  
  
  



	4. Oh, I guess weird soul shenanigans are my life now. What else is new?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens, and the name of the series is revealed.

Michelle doesn’t really remember how they got here.

She remembers that they and the other ghosts were talking about their experiences in the Underground, and then they started feeling a pull of sorts.

Next thing she knows, they’re inside their former fight partner’s head. It feels like an existential crisis times fifty.

Currently, she and her fellow ghosts were inside a dark, nothingy, circular-looking room with a headgear-like window in its front. (?)

The crew and their new host (since there was no better word anymore) Frisk, the strange red human they’d all met four years ago, was currently hosting the small group inside their head--

“That’s...a lot,” said Chara, the first human, looking downwards, clearly upset about something. They didn’t specify, because the next thing you knew, the window was taken up by Chara hugging you--well, Frisk, but you could feel it.

But there was still a really big question not being answered here.

“Are we going to tell?” asked the young teal one. He said his name is (was? What the heck.) Mike.

The unanimous answer was a resounding NO, at least till the Biannual SOUL checkup coming August. Still, it was February, so that’s seven months of trying to keep a group of ghosts hidden.

Frisk was asleep now, so they came and sat next to you (they were so tall now…), Chara by the side of the yellow one, Bridget. The others, you didn’t know their names because there wasn’t the time or incentive to ask.

“We’ll be okay. Chara’s been a secret for four years now, so they’ll probably be fine.” pipes Frisk, and Chara rolls their eyes.

“But your mom knows. So does An-Li.” and Frisk signs back ‘good point’. But they can’t know.

So it rests at ‘don’t tell anybody’, and the conversation shifts to icebreakers, something that they needed to teach the kid in breeches. Thankfully, to Toco’s relief, those breeches can be replaced with actual clothing in about a year, due to SOUL bonding stuff.

The names, death year, and reasons for climbing come pretty soon after that. Age isn’t really important anymore.

So far it’s-

YOU- Purple: Michelle Vaughan, birthplace Jackson, Mississippi, death year 2010, climbed to see why other kids kept vanishing and to record the findings for science.

Green: Thomas Gale, Toco preferred, birthplace Washington DC, death year 1889, ended up coming temporarily for overseeing trade with Father, got kidnapped for ransom, and when nobody came, was tossed into the mountain. (everyone chokes a bit at that…)

Indigo: Raina Johnson, birthplace South Side Chicago, death year 1965, went for a ballet performance, first one on pointe, ended up looking for flower props and falling.

Teal/Cyan: Mike Justmike, birthplace Honolulu, Hawaii, moved here at the age of two, climbed on a dare. Death year 1977.

Orange: Dev Krishnan. Birthplace, Bangalore, India. Parents moved for job opportunities, was bullied, and got lost on a field trip. (Frisk stiffens, and Chara grips their hand tight.)

Yellow: Bridget, last name forgotten. Birthplace, Oslo (as it’s now called). Came as a war refugee, was on the way to camp after her brother died on the train, and she fell. Death year 1943.

So everyone was miserable, pretty much.

But instead of dwelling, they decided to go down for cocoa and a show called Steven Universe, which was surprisingly entertaining. They figured that in about six or seven years, they’d become corporeal,_ alive _, supported by Frisk. This raised some complications for Frisk’s health, since Chara was already trying to build up from them, but they all figured that they’d deal with it as it comes.

Overall? Crazy day. Can’t argue though.

_ (When Frisk turn in to sleep, the barest stirrings of a wish begin in your chest, and you’re afraid to see what it becomes, so you push it down.) _

_ ! _

_ @ _

_ # _

_ $ _

_ % _

_ ^ _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that I'm cross-posting this, I realise that in my earlier fandom days, I thought of Frisk as female. Now I consider them as completely neutral or male, so ignore any times you hear 'her'
> 
> Wait- I edited that out now.
> 
> This chapter's pretty short, but I like it so it stays
> 
> FOR FUTURE REFERENCE--
> 
> ! - Michelle
> 
> @ - Toco
> 
> # - Raina
> 
> $ - Mike
> 
> % - Dev
> 
> ^ - Bridget
> 
> Italicised speech- Chara  
Italics and underlined speech- Frisk


	5. It was supposed to be a normal day of class, really.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the life of split-head syndrome. It's a lot more childish than one may believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially, this arc was 3 chapters. But after a LOT of revision, it became a single chapter without as much plotless uselessness. Hope you enjoy!

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**f / r / i / s/ k**

It was supposed to be a normal day of class, really.

And even if you had gone silent for a couple of weeks trying to adjust to this new situation of yours, nothing was really, truly wrong.

Really! You were just a bit more wound-up than normal, having to explain the most normal things to a bunch of squeal-y kids. (Except for Dev, but your stories were so similar that you didn’t want to dwell on it.)

Still, Chara had been helpful in coming up with excuses, and you’d become better at lying again. Even if having the skill again reminded you of bad things all over again--

Nope, not today.

  
  


So yes, it was supposed to be a completely normal day in class, Biology to be exact.

But Bridget had decided to be a twit today, and that was testing the few remains of your dwindling sanity.

_ ^Hey! Let’s play rock-paper-scissors! Or lady-hunter-tiger! Or- _

_ No, please. _

^Awwwwwwww! Pleeeease?

You gave a long, drawn out groan and hit your forehead to the desk, startling Jacob, who was right next to you.

_ No! Sorry, just, it’s been a long day. Maybe another time. _

“Frisk Hayes-Dreemurr.” You start, borderline flinch when you hear the tone of the voice. It’s Mrs. Plantae, and she does not look very happy.

You freeze entirely, the closer she gets to your form, and when she punches taps your shoulder, it’s a proper flinch, good and hard.

You want to tell her that _ No! Nothing’s wrong, I just had a migraine so can I please go to the nurse, I’ll be back in a minute. _ But you try, and your mouth opens and your lungs close because you remember--not everything, just the bad parts.

_ Punches, taunts, flowers, ink and graphite on desks, pushingshoutingw aitstopI’msorryIdidn’tmeantoof fend I’msorrysorrysorry---- _

Leaning on the desk, clutching your stomach, trying to take deeper breaths and failing, failing.

_ “Frida, don’t you dare think you’re any better. You’re nothing compared to your peers, and you and that stupid rag-tag group of ours will be left behind like the scum you are.” _

Starting to choke, hair in your face, trying to cover your face from view, humiliated.

_ The Underground- Undyne’s spears, bonesboneshealingbuthurts TORIELSTOPNONONONOPLEASEITBURNSSTOP-- _

_ Metal claws, jaws, lava, water nonono it’s too much-- _

_ StopStopSTOPbastarukhorukhobastabastabasta- _

_ You feel a body next to you, flush, warm, there. _

_ “Ssssh, it’s okay, we made it out, we can rest…” You grip each other's hands, bruised and broken more than any eight-year-old’s should be, and lean close, comforting, and for a moment you stop being afraid of the touch and you lean in at the same time as him- _

“Thank you Jacob. Frisk, please tell me if you’re ill next time.”

You blink, trying to get back your bearings, while the frantic buzzing in your head isn’t stopping.

_ Ugh, guys, stop. My head already hurts. _

_ ! Uh, okay! Sorry! _

_ Talk later, okay, I’m really sorry but I am so freaking frazzled right now- _

_ Frisk, hush. I’ll keep this in check. _

_ Thanks, Care. _

_ No problem, partner. _

The rest of the lesson, and school day as a whole, ends with you and Jacob clasping your (just scarred, it’s okay) hands together, and when Jacob panics because of all the yelling at lunch, the two of you and An-Li skip, hiding in a corner of the library that even the librarian now registers as ‘The Trio’s Comfort Corner”.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**j / a / c / o / b**

Of course your parents find out- the teachers aren’t idiots, and when the tree of you enrolled, it was a signed pledge to report any memories resurfacing, especially the ones like this.

So when you get back home, all three of you are subjected to serious questioning that you really didn’t want to answer, and Frisk was just a wall, blocking any input possible, gone from home, taking some time off. The only people allowed near are you and An-Li, but that's expected. It’s been that way for most of your life now, and it’d only be weird if it wasn't the case.

(_ When you brought that up with your Grandmor, she started crying, muttering under her breath ‘‘Kids shouldn’t have to be this’’. You don’t understand yet. _)

Either way, it felt a little like a temporary relapse on Frisk’s part, because touch was suddenly scary again, and the loud bass music Asriel playing was m u r d e r. You’d gotten better with loud noise, but not enough for a shouting match or a real Party that people throw in High School. Those were still enough to make you curl into a small dark space in fear, but An-Li was scared of tiny spaces so all three of you hid under the bed, or under a table while everything fizzled out. It was okay, you were learning how to deal, you could even put music upto fifty percent!

So you kept your hand in the space between your bodies, and Frisk responded with the barest brush of fingertips, and it was fine.

On those fingertips you tapped out a message- ‘a/r/e//y/o/u//o/k/a/y//n/o/w’?

/y/e/a/h//b/e/t/t/e/r

g/o/o/d- you reply resolutely.

‘/a/r/e//y/o/u’

You tense a bit. The music is still disconcerting, and you want to say that everything’s fine, but this is a third of **The Trio**. There are no secrets. Never have been, never will be.

‘h/e/c/k//n/o’

They speak this time, softly and barely more than a whisper. They've come home faster than usual.

“Do you want the headphones?” You nod, and they go get them. As soon as you put them on, every sound gets cancelled out, and you close your eyes, at peace.

You feel Frisk curl up nearby, and that’s a good comforter if you know any.

(About half an hour later, An-Li comes in to your other side; she was supposed to check on you and deliver some dumplings over. She ended up staying, and the three of you fell asleep, that much faster.) 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Should I expand further? I wanted Jacob and An-Li to get more attention in this rewrite xD


	6. Midterm Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -

**Name: Frisk Hayes-Dreamurr** ** Subject: Monster History**

**Date: 16/7/201X Time: 60 minutes Max Marks: 35**

Teacher's note: C'mon, guys! All the material in the test happened during these last four years of your life! I expect good grades here!

_ **Q1- The exact date of the official dissolution of the Monster Kingdom, or Kingdom of Monsters, or Legacy of the Delta Rune. State your answer below.** _

_The Kingdom of Monsters was dissolved on the 28th of February, 201X, with the Blessing of all Governments in the U.N. (That was a relief)_

_ **Q2- The Anti-Monster riots were of great hindrance to the acceptance of Monsters into Human Society. When were the first and last riots, number of casualties, and what were the exact number that occurred?** _

_The anti-monster riots began on November 23rd, 201X, about two and a half months post-barrier. Over the course of 12 riots, over the course of late 201X to early 201X, 210 monsters (out of the then population of 50,000), 18 humans were injured, 20 monsters were dusted, and 3 humans were killed. The riots ended on April 4th, 201X, soon after the declaration of the legality of interspecies marriage._

_ **Q3- When were monsters allowed full citizenship?** _

_1st march, 201X. That was awesome._

\------------------------------------------------------- END OF SECTION ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a good place to insert some world-building!


	7. Well, it's been a secret since February...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE SECRET'S OUT, PEOPLE!

There was no escaping it this time. Fall was here. meant Biannual Soul Checkup. Biannual Soul Checkup meant showing your SOUL. Which then meant...

_ #Yes. I am prepared for the possibility of an exorcism. doesn't mean I LIKE the idea _

_ Me neither. Insane as you all are, I've kinda grown to like you crazy ghosts. _

_ ! And we have come to enjoy the company of you and Red. _

_ \+ Thanks. Try using abbreviations sometimes? _ You can almost _ feel _ Chara's eyes rolling. But there's a hint of joy in the compliment, you've seen it. You yourself really don't want to say goodbye to these strange, quirky companions.

_ But I guess we all have to hope for the best, don't we? _

_ %That's the spirit! _

_ You've got a lot of spunk for a four-year-old, Myke. And vocabulary. Who taught you how to swear again? _

_ $Carlos! And I've been dead for fifty years! Which makes me uh... fifty plus four? Uh... _

_ Fifty Four. And your math hasn't improved worth anything. _

"Either way, however this ends, time isn't going to slow down for us today. Not anymore ``you whisper to yourself, for once wishing for the abject calm of a load screen after a particularly brutal death. (_ Toy trains to the stomach anyone? _Chara had said that once, about a month after the SOUL's arrived. Everyone was particularly grossed out. Chara didn't say much about death after that. You said less.)

With a bit (understatement of the year) of trepidation, you walk down the stairs, doing your best to keep your face neutral. This wasn't hard most days, but now? Every step was an aching urge to tuRN BA** _CK _ **

**DON'T GO**

WHAT'LL HAPPEN TO **THEM?**

WHAT WILL ASGORE ** _DO_ **

** _NO._ **

** _THIS WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN._ **

** _GO NOW_ **

** _DON'T GO BACK_ **

** _YOU'RE GOING TO DIE_ **

** _AGAIN_ **

** _AGAIN_ **

** _AGAIN_ **

** _HOW MANY TIMES _ **

** _DO YOU REMEMBER?_ **

** _DOES IT MATTER?_ **

Somehow you made it to the bottom. Slowly and painfully, the neutral face ever present.

Times like this you were glad you'd found a way to think separately, without witty input.

You sat down, between Sans and your brother. (for how much longer?) Nobody seems to notice anything off. Sans looks at you funny.

Your mother, your uncle and Toriel are sitting together on the squashy couch. Asgore is in the corner, trying to avoid the deadpan expression that's coming for him. He's leaning on his trident.

** _THAT HE'S GOING TO STAB YOU WITH._ **

** _Shut up._ **

** _I'M YOU, REMEMBER?_ **

** _Dang it._ **

Alphys and Undyne are sharing the loveseat in the opposite corner. Heh. Undyne's getting her magic ready for the checkup. You should do the same. Alphys takes out her tablet, and a couple of wires. She's getting ready for the executio- No, the checkup.

You summon a wisp from your hands, bright red, with a bit of black lacing through it. Apparently the black wasn't natural, but shaped by experience. You'd have to read about it soon. (Yeah, in your next life)

Finally, after what feels like two eternities, Alphys clears her throat.

_ This is it... _

@ Yep.

"S-so uh... Hi! Today we-we're checking y-your SOULs today! As you know, I'm going to monitor general activity, health and some other stuff, like your stats! T-though you-you've done this enough t-times, now..."

Toriel snapped Alphys out of her stupor.

"Thank you, Alphys. Now who would like to go first?"

You see Asriel visibly perk up at the idea, and he immediately perks up, volunteering for the task at hand. You exhale a bit, figuring you could go last.

All their SOUL's are healthy, save for Asriel's, (and, by that hand, yours) which had a bit of black snaking around them. It had been there for two years now, and was called HATE. Too much of it can overpower you, but in healthy (well, not exactly _ healthy _) amounts, just made you an established cynic. Asriel didn't have enough to affect his personality, but you did. You read this in the book of SOUL's, while you were waiting. Chara had no comment, but the others were wondering why you were so interested in the topic.

Then, like a dream, giving way to a nightmare, your turn came. Sans looked at you apprehensively, and Chara went to their spot in the corner, as to not interfere with you SOUL's workings. You could FEEL another panic attack coming, but you held it down, each breath not giving any air. Instinctively, you hugged your jacket closer, trying to hold in your collapsing form, and your SOUL, though the latter was futile. 

You sit in the chair, and hook yourself up to the wires. You inhale, exhale four times, like your Nana told you, back when he was still alive. Your mother looks at you, also apprehensive. She knows about Chara. You give her the signal that your partner is safe, and she seems to relax.

Now came the worst part. Holding yourself together, you turned on the tablet screen, and before letting anyone else see, you sneak a glance for yourself. It's exactly what you expect. A red heart, with a ribbon of black coursing through, and six small hearts, in a variety of colours. You can also compare it to last year's, where the ribbon was a bit thicker, and you were a deadpan snarker.(_ You still are | _ _ Shut up _ _ . _) Now, you save the image, and hand over the screen. 

From there, the rest is a blur, really.

Toriel is crying while Sans explains, your mom is terrified, Papyrus is trying to calm everyone down, Undyne is suplex-ing everything in a four-foot radius, and Asgore just looks lost. 

You, yourself are sitting there, blank face, unmoving, while your brother and Uncle try to get you to respond. At some point, you know Toriel asks you to meet them, the children her ex-husband killed, and they switch out, introduce themselves, and you are just...

Tired. There's no other word for it but tired, you think. You’re not truly there, per se, you’re watching it from another perspective, like watching a video through a phone screen.

You still feel your uncle and Asriel (Yeah, that's his name) are prodding you shaking your shoulder, when you robotically get up, otherwise unnoticed by the commotion, and go to your room.

[You don't know exactly how long you just stare out the window, the SOUL's now, trying to jog you into a reaction, but you fall asleep when the sky burns ablaze, burning, burning, burning with ferocity to set alight any last shreds of normalcy.]

** _/e n d /o f/ a r c/o n e/ _ **

\-------------------------------------

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a doozy to write, but fun, because I got to break out my full thesaurus self on this chapter.
> 
> Well the beans have been spilled, so what's gonna come after? 
> 
> There are going to be a couple of filler chapters, that are plot moving in their own right, before I move to the next major plot arc.


	8. The morning after...literally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of angst, because I could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we're done with this particular chapter arc, I have some smaller, filler chapters that are still sort of plot relevant, which also clear up some gaps in the story. (also I just wanted to write them)
> 
> So I guess... Let's get started. I have some feels ready this chapter
> 
> Warnings: Gender Dysphoria, Nightmares, implied/referenced Bullying, referenced disassociation, death of a family member and death of children. Nothing overtly serious, but viewer discretion is advised if these topics bother you. (This is SevenTale, those children died before the game even started)
> 
> FLUFF WILL APPEAR IN THIS TOO BECAUSE I NEED SOME MOOD-LIGHTENING HERE. This is the last chapter of this 'mood' (as in 'super intense') and lighter, fluffier chapters lie ahead.

\-----------------------------------------

/c h a r a/

You watch your partner wake up by around three in the morning. It's how the two of you have always been. Go to bed normally, sleep through the night on good days, wake up at exactly 3:04 in the morning on bad days, because of the nightmares. It's been that way for four years, and SOUL links blessedly allow the two of you to wake up at the same time, even if it's just to be there, to not be totally alone in the dark.

All the same, when you both get up, (mercifully without screaming) the first thing you can even think about doing, in that pitch blackness, is reach for each other. You don't remember what you dreamt about, neither does Frisk, all you know is that it was a seven on the bad scale (cold sweat, shortness of breath, no screaming or panic attacks) and that you need to be close, that you need each other, and you'll stay like that for a while.

You don't remember what you dreamt of, but it was obviously bad.

You think about half an hour of harried breathing, calming down ensued for the both of you until you decide to talk, even more softly than the rustle of thick blankets.

"What exactly happened? I-I think I saw them all come out, a-and mom was crying."

_ God, why do I always make her cry? _

_ Shut up. Those were happy tears. _

You'd forgotten that they'd spaced out, what with the utter chaos of the event. You remember their uncle's (Dan. That's his name) face, scared and trying to coax them into a response. He should know by now that that doesn't work.

Times like those made you slightly (read:extremely) resentful of Frisk's old school. They were a regular kid, no panic, no blackouts, no nothing until they went to that school. You wonder just how bad the kids there would have to be for something like this to happen.

But alas, these are the circumstances that one's given, and the only thing you can do is keep pushing forward.

You pull your SOULmate close, burying their own tearful face into your sweater. You stay like that for some time, listening to their heartbeat, rubbing circles on their back. After all, that's what they do for you on your worse days, when you can't think straight and you wished you'd never become a ghost and the st _ upid plan wo _ ** _rked stupidstupidstupid-_ **

_ Chara, it's fine, it's fine. Stop.  _

You cling to those words tightly.

Eventually, you both fall asleep around four.

\--------------------------- 9:00 am

/f r i s k/

Your throat aches. It aches to absolute hell and back.

Pulling down the trouser sleeves of your pyjamas, (as to hide the blue spots) you leave your room, Chara not far behind. It's going to be a normal Sunday, you, Undyne and Alphys have a Boku No Hero Academia binge watch session today.

(Hey, Frisk, you okay?

Right. Yesterday still happened. You're not dead, and the SOUL's aren't gone, so that has to be a good sign.

Yeah. But I don't remember a lot of what happened

(Oh. Well, Mama freaked out, as soon as we showed up, and we took turns coming out and explaining. Chara stayed out of it. Asgore just looked sad, and Papyrus was confused.

So they aren't gonna kill me?

(What? No! Why'd you even think that?

Just paranoid.

(Anyways, it's breakfast time. You should go in right now.

Okay.

\--

You realise it was probably a mistake even entering. Pulling your faithful jacket close, you'd tried to slip in, grab a sandwich and Get Out, but NO. Everyone just had to think of checking the entrance the moment you stepped in.

No getting out of it now. Ignoring (deliberately this time) the looks on the other's faces, you took a seat between your mother and Asriel. they didn't scoot over the moment you came, so obviously they don't hate you too much. (Probably. maybe...?)

There's only two sandwiches on the table, and what with your not being too hungry, you take the sandwich and, before anyone can say something, you leave.

Steven Universe is on today, and suffice to say, after crying yourself hoarse at three in the morning, your voice doesn't feel up to too much.

\--

/e m i l y/

When you finally talk to your kid, and they actually reply, it's past noon.

You'd by then gotten used to such lapses in speech since... the school, probably. (Biggest mistake of your life) The thought that since February, there were six other children, sharing a mind space...

Maybe that had something to do with the refusal to acknowledge pain until it was enough to send them to the ICU. (Which, mercifully, still hadn't happened, you don't know what you do if it happened.) No, that had been there since they left the Underground. You realise that your kid has way too many stories of the place, considering they were in and out within the week. It felt like they had months of memories, and sometimes when bringing it up with friends from the Underground, they wouldn't know what you were talking about. Chara (best ghost you've met so far, such a good friend) backs up all of them, so you don't think they're bluffing. But it's weird, anyway.

You snap out of your thoughts and sit next to your kid, who is currently reading a copy of 'Readers DigestIVE' while making a pointed effort not to look at anyone. They remind you of well...you. (Pretty much the only thing they have from their dad is the interest in Physics, and their build. Lanky and long fingered)

So you swallow and talk.

"Hey, Friskito."

They flinch, but look up to meet your gaze. Dark blue on the left, crimson on the right. A more quizzical than suspicious expression graces their (beautiful, amazing how did I create this) face, and they reply.

"Hey mom." Their voice sounds more like a raspy, sick version of the real thing, (Were they crying, I don't want my baby to cry ever) but it's the first thing they've said all day. So you'll take it.

You decide to get to the point, sort of.

"Do you remember anything from yesterday?" and the response takes a minute. At first it looks like they're just sitting and staring, but they're probably having a conversation with the other inhabitants of their head, (you never asked for their names, how rude of you)but they nod, and look back up at you, looking visibly tired. (Your heart breaks that much more, even though you know that it'll be alright, they just need some rest)

"No. I-I don't, not really. But the others filled me in. It was more like vaguely aware of everything." Still trying to avoid actual touch, your kid reached for the glass of water on the coffee table in front of them. After taking a couple of sips, and their voice sounding better than before, they finish with; "Is that what you wanted to know, or something else?"

You shake your head, affirming the former of the sentence. You don't have many quiet moments like this anymore, and you doubt Frisk has many themselves, so you make the most of it.

After five minutes or so, you ask a question out of the blue. Your mouth is moving before your mind.

"What are their names? The SOUL's, I mean. How old are they? Frisk blinks, not really knowing how to respond, seems to consult their head again, before speaking.

"Which one d'you wanna know first? Names, or age?"

You start with the lesser of two evils. "Names."

"Well, the green kindness SOUL is Toco. Pronouns are hir and ze. The purple perseverance SOUL is Michelle. Pronouns she, her, they, them.The cyan patience SOUL is Mike. Pronouns he, him. The orange bravery SOUL is Raj. Pronouns he, him. the dark blue integrity SOUL, the one mine used to look like was Raina. Pronouns change depending on the day.Chara is...Chara. You know them.The yellow justice SOUL, like yours, is Cornelia. Pronouns are she, her unless she says otherwise."

You sum it up. "So, how much dysphoria goes around?"

They laugh a little, and it's the best sound you've heard all day. (They deserve nothing less than a world where they never need to suffer) "Yeah, plenty. Coupled in with my own and you've got a hot mess! " 

In a more subtle, quiet tone, they finish; "Maybe it's time to invest in a chest binder."

You make that a mental note, to pick one up from the store first chance you get.

Finally, you get to the greater of the two evils. "How old are they?" and you see Frisk freeze. The lightly joking demeanour is lost , and all around you, there is nothing but grief.

(You've felt it enough times to see it coming. So has your kid.)

"Michelle was ten. Cornelia was nine. Raj, Toco and Raina were eight.Chara ages with me, so twelve too. Mike-" (They start crying and you want to pull them close, tell them its okay, the world isn't always this cruel) "Myie was four." And that is the sentence that practically made your heart stopin its tracks. You know the reasoning, it was stay in the Underground or die for the cause, and he was four and he didn't know anything but listening to authority. So he listened and he died.

It's not fair.

(You feel like a child, complaining about your brother hogging the slide in the apartment complex, saying how unfair it was that he got the slide first, but this is so much bigger than you)

And then Frisk is leaning into your chest and crying so hard that you just want to rip away all those terrible memories, but you know that there are so many positive ones that overtake them, and they'd never, ever forgive you for it-

In the end, the only thing you do is hold them close until it stops, and they go to speak to Asriel, (your son, he is the best companion she could've asked for) possibly to make amends for everything.

Over the rest of the day, you see them go up to all their friends and apologise for the distance they inadvertently created with a secret that big, and you see hugging, smiles, tears (but none from Frisk, you note) and eventually forgiveness and understanding, and a promise to never put off telling a secret that big ever again.

You decide that Chara isn't a secret, per se, because you and Dan know.

You get a chest binder for Frisk when you do the grocery run, and you can see the absolute happiness that comes from it, from such a small commodity.They hold you tight, and bring your brother (the best surrogate parent you could've even wished for) and it just feels so wonderful, that the grief stays away for the whole night, even when it rains, and the otherwise unnecessary fireplace came into use when the air got colder. 

You hug and kiss both the kids, embrace Dan and Toriel, and then you decide that work can wait till tomorrow, settling in under your (immaturely large for an adult's) pile of duvets and comforters, and when sleep overtakes you, you don't see your husband's face as he falls down into the ravine.

The peace was appreciated.

\------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so these chapters are definitely not going to be short, because I hit (exactly) 2000 words in the chapter itself, and the opening notes. 
> 
> Still, this is the last feels trip you're getting from this arc, so up ahead is only fluff! (for those of you who don't know, fluff is basically nice, wholesome things)
> 
> Well, I have some ideas planned, including some birthdays.
> 
> I myself have never experienced large amounts of gender dysphoria, but I hope I portrayed it accurately. I am also not a mother, so hopefully the Emily section is at least somewhat accurate.
> 
> (Why must I hurst these poor children? because I wanna. deal with it)
> 
> So, that's it!
> 
> Peace Out-
> 
> iDrawTooMuch


	9. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh... decided to at least attempt fluff before giving up on it. Comment how I did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We're gonna meet Frisk and Asriel's friends in detail! I've been waiting for this one...

\-------------------------

/t o r i e l/

Frisk's thirteenth birthday, and they weren't waking up. They had obviously forgotten about it entirely, due to the fact it had not been acknowledged once all year.

They will most likely love the surprise that she, Emily Asgore, the Bluemako's and the others had come up with. Even <strike>An-Li</strike> Mai had checked in, the alter helping her host recover from an accident in which she locked herself into a closet.

Of course, first the child in question had to wake up--On second thought, Asriel seemed to have it covered. Melancholically, she remembered when Chara (The name still hurt, even after a century) and Asriel would pounce on hers and Asgore's bed to wake them up for their birthdays. Chara hadn't had one assigned, so the monster family set it for September Fifteenth.

What a solid punch in the guts (that her boyfriend didn't have) she and Asgore felt to realise that Frisk's birthday was on the same day. Why did the two have to be so similar?

A groan from Char--No, Frisk stirred her from her thoughts. She chose that moment to enter, as a possible source of motivation.

Frisk's hair, although usually impossible to tame as it was, was especially bad today, sticking out at all angles, as if they had put their fingers in a power socket. Then she saw the golden-yellow eyes.

Holly was piloting right now, of course. She was the only true early bird Toriel had hosted, and the one who spent the second-longest time with her. And Holly's SOUL trait embodied electricity.

Of snailing course.

Brushing away any sadness, the former queen came to stand beside them at their bed, putting on her 'stern' voice.

(The bags in their eyes were concerning, but she'd push that away for now. Asriel shared them with them)

"Frisk, I expect you to be awake now, weekend or not." Softening her tone a bit, she finished; "It is your birthday, after all. Thirteen years old! Such a milestone."

They blinked. And replied.

"Oh gosh...Sorry Toriel. I guess wi-with everything going on," they indicated at their temples; "I think I forgot." The smile on their face was tired and sheepish, but the eyes and voice were Frisk's. They came out of their tangle of sheets, wiped the sleep crusts from their (rather small) eyes, landlocked back to smile at Asriel and herself.

The goat monster saw what they'd picked out for themselves, from their wardrobe. The Parka that never seemed to come off after turning eleven, except this one was different, it wasn't faded blue, it was a forest green, a purple shirt with glittery blue stars, a mid-thigh school style pleated skirt, denim and black tights. Their friends and themselves had always rejected the idea of gender and clothing being one in the same.

Toriel went downstairs to get the food out, the cinnamon and Azafrán cookies should be done by now, as well as the chocolate pie. Frisk didn't seem to like butterscotch very much.

(After a...disastrous incident at Asriel's first surface year celebration, she left Emily and Daniel to the savories.)

\-----------------------

/j a c o b/

You blow on the cookies. Then poof up your skirt. It's your favorite, so you keep it well. Then you straighten your (newly orange) hair, and look away from the cookies.

Oh snails you want to eat them.

You put the chocolate treats away, and go upstairs. Your pal is upstairs, probably freaking out over the fact that they forgot their own birthday. For the second time in two years.

Madness. Literally.

Brushing that aside, you open the door, and see your friend…

Promptly freaking out. Typical.

(You aren’t much better)

“Friskito?” You promptly stride in the room, giving Asriel the scare of his life. Inwardly laughing, you turn your eyes to the Indian-Spanish kid in front of your eyes.

As expected, they are seriously inwardly panicking. Comedically.

“Meri locket, mi zapatos...Abhe yaar!” Oopers. With Frisk’s English, one might have easily mistaken them for an English-speaking native, if they hadn’t had the accent. It’s easy to forget that English is a third language, at best. Same applies for An-Li, and Japanese and Mandarin. You feel like the only one of your lot with English as a first language.

But enough of that, you recognized the word ‘Zapatos’, so you fished those out, and they quickly found the locket they were hunting for.

Over the years, the locket stopped being simply a golden heart chain. It now had a faux-glass scatter rose on it, a celtic family crest (A present from a scottish family they’d met back when they were ambassador) and, of course, the copper maple leaf, to remind them to stay strong, no matter what. You’d all started wearing it, in your odd little friend group, and now it was kind of your own symbol.

Either way, you help them with the ratty laces, falling apart more and more by the day, and while you’re both sitting down, they wrap you in an embrace, to say hello. And what kind of heathen are you, not to hug back?

Asriel finishes up his fur, in a style that looks very, very reminiscent of the 1700’s. Just with less...Poufiness. 

And that’s how your rag-tag bunch went downstairs.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd think that all the pleasant surprises were done by now, but heck no!

First there’s the impromptu anime screening that Undyne and Alphys scheduled beforehand. Classic Bluemako. It was a comedy, called Love Is War, and it was honestly just an awesome way to spend three hours of the day, even if the bus ride tacked on forty-five minutes per ride. Mai (It was Mai today, right.) was so glad that the anime was subbed, not dubbed, and blatantly pointed out all the mis-translated lines, often devolving into Japanese curses under her breath. Hilarious all around. There was a Spanish couple sitting nearby, who couldn’t understand written English or Japanese, so Frisk helped translate, finding themselves roped into tutoring the couple’s six-year-old son and daughter twins, Carlotta and Carlos, in English. You got yourself into a popcorn-flicking fight with an old pre- school friend, Lisa-Bethany, and caught up a bit in the intermission.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

When your party comes back, decked out in Love is War merch and popcorn pieces, (Okay, just you and the Monster couple on that last one) the cake is already ready, because this is TORIEL. And of course, the cookies you did such a great job of icing have cooled and are simply _ waiting _ to be eaten.

You can tell that Frisk is having an in-depth conversation in their head, because in the excitement, the colours of their eyes are switching rapidly, to the point where it’s nearly dizzying to look at them at all. Ayo, with a slight tinge of pink is calming the brunette down, and getting cookies to dunk in Spider Cider for the three of you. (It’s an acquired taste, okay?)

The entire Monster gang is here, Shyren, Napstablook, Asgore, The Skeleton Brothers, Muffet, Grillby, heck- even METTATON cut his tour short to wish his human pal happy birthday and welcome to teenage-hood.

Makes you pretty darn grateful that the Monsters like you as much as you like them.

The cake is in the shape of a red heart, crimson fondant on vanilla home-baked cake, with six hearts made of lemon meringue, orange slices, purple bubble gum, breath mints, kaccha mango bites, and blue citrus.

You swear that they’re trying their best not to cry right now. They barrel into their mother’s arms, getting covered by their HUGE circle of relatives, and they stay like that for a few moments, until…

“Let’s party, people!” that was Mai. Definitely. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Nobody’s surprised when your crew walks into the classroom, bleary eyed from being up too late for the sleepover, and slightly blue-purple-toothed.

Not as if any of you mind...

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's the fluff? Hopefully you didn't get cavities?


	10. throw me down as far as you wish, i will rise from the ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Last filler before Arc.2!  
TW: Bullying, bruising, Homophobia, Transmophobia, Gender Dysphoria, Intrusive thoughts, memory repression, parents worrying but not knowing the actual severity of the situation, the like. Tell me if I missed any things
> 
> I myself am not agender, and I’m doing my level best to represent the community, so if I have made any mistakes, please comment below and tell me! Constructive Criticism is always welcome!
> 
> (Psst- you don’t need an account to comment, for all you guests. The Archive doesn’t data mine! Or Spam! I waited a year to get this account, I can say this with confidence!)
> 
> This one's pretty dark, and I promise things will lighten out for a while after this, but it's important to the plot, so I couldn't skip it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty dark, and I promise things will lighten out for a while after this, but it's important to the plot, so I couldn't skip it.  
Bear with me a bit! If the tags disturb you, please don't read this.
> 
> Arc two in particular is a lot darker than the first, and this is the official beginning to Arc 2, so, if you're triggered by this, please leave, I'm more concerned for your state of mind. If you do choose to continue reading, I'll be leaving additional warnings in the start notes from now on. Thank you.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ There are three children cramped together on a bus seat meant for two. _

_ They are five years old. _

_ They are  _ _ not _ _ looking forward to the school day. _

_ \-- _

_ The first is in class, when a candy wrapper is flicked at the back of her head. She knows why, but she’s rather not dwell on it. _

_ Definitely not dwell on why the name  _ _ ‘Frida’ _ _ , the words ‘ _ _ she’, ‘her’ _ _ and  _ _ ‘girl’ _ _ feel so wrong on her lips. _

_ She decides to look behind her, as the wrappers have turned into pellets. Those actually really hurt, and when she did, the kids called the teacher. _

_ “Mrs. Wormwood?  _ _ Frida’s _ _ CHEATING!” _

_ So, for doing nothing, she isn’t allowed to go and play at breaktime. Never mind.  _

_ She and her friends hate it anyway. _

_ She and her friend are sitting back to back on the concrete floor, when the boy comes from the infirmary, finishing the triangle.  _

_ Unfortunately, they are noticed right at that moment, and the game of tag escalates into a game of aim. _

_ Who can throw the most rocks at the freaks? _

_ Turns out, it’s Andy Sagan. Jerkface. _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ She begins to _ ** _ break_ ** _ when she’s six. _

_ It starts slowly. _

_ “ _ _ Frida _ _ Hayes?” _

_ Part of her tries to ignore the command entirely, but she follows the rules, so she goes. _

_ She solves the problem on the board, trying not to cry as her...classmates jeer at the slightest things- the handwriting, the way she’s doing the relatively simple addition. It hurts, and she wishes her friends were in this classroom with her. _

_ She wishes her English was better, so that they’d all stop pointing out when she used Hindi or Spanish grammar in her sentences, stop ragging about how she had to think before saying basic sentences. _

_ She got better at it eventually, with the help of her mother and her friends. _

_ Later on, when they’re twelve, their mother tells them that they used to care too much, which is still a blessing and a curse. _

_ But she didn’t know that seven years ago. So she kept doing her hardest not to cry. _

_ She was pretty sure that her mother was concerned that she never let her mother in the clothing store changing rooms to help with sizing, or to even comb her hair like she used to. But now the idea of touching anyone is  _ ** _terrifying_ ** _ , mind-numbingly so, and the kids have gotten more physical since she was five. _

_ Besides, her mother’s so busy these days, what with working extra hours, and trying to get that comic studio started, that she couldn’t bear being another reason for the strained smile, the bags under her eyes. _

_ No, she loved her mother too much for that. She still does. _

_ Instead, she disappeared for the first time, coming back a week later. _

** _Crazy/Whiny/Stupid/Lost/Ungrateful/Loud/Loud/Noisy/Supid/Dumb_ **

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ She finally tells her mother on a quiet fall weekend, while they’re crunching through autumn leaves, speaking a wild mix of Spanish and Hindi. _

_ It comes out randomly, just blurted out for no real reason, no real trigger. _

** _“No soy una chica.”_ ** _ She didn’t know why it escaped her mouth so quickly, but the secret was out. _

_ Mami stopped walking, and carried the six-year-old in her long, capable, callused arms. _

_ She sat down, keeping her (scarily) small child in her lap, worried by the sudden flinch that came from contact. The first was scared, but she did her best to explain- the startling wrongness that came with being labelled as either male or female, and the amount of anguish it was causing. _

_ The mother just held her close, and said the magic words. She explained that people who felt like that were called ‘agender’, meaning no gender. That it was natural to feel this way, and while not everyone agreed, it was still okay. _

_ It was still okay. _

_ “They”, “Them”-- _

_ “Frida?” _

_ “Frisk.” You say, with this revelation. _

** _“Meri naam Frisk hai.”_ **

_ The mother smiles, cradling the first, standing up, and twirling her--them in her arms, coffee coloured and beautiful. Both of their black-brown hair, thin and wispy from a lack of conditioner or hair oil, laughing, smiling together, for real, for the first time in so long it hurt. _

_ In hindsight, the Frisk of that day thought, that was the moment that they wanted to be frozen in time, forever. _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ The second just wanted to go  _ ** _home_ ** _ . _

_ He knew that it was a common sentiment, but he’d literally rather stay in a dumpster than in actual school at this point. _

_ Besides, either situation would have him and his friends in the same shape. Bruised and Battered. _

_ The three are seven years old. _

_ Jeering and flicks on the forehead have turned into pushing and shoving, eventually punching. _

_ At least his classmates are smart enough to hurt where a sweater and long pants could hide it easily enough. In summer? Just keep wearing them, because if Dad and Ms. Hayes and the Huang’s see it… _

_ Everyone would be in trouble, and it’d be all his fault. _

** _YourfaultYourfaultYourfaultYourfaultYOURFAULT_ **

_ He just wants to watch the next Pokémon episode… _

_ It sounds nice, the idea of being a Pokemon Trainer, participating in battles and contests, creating a family of superpowered creatures, and best of all… _

_ Never sticking around for the long term repercussions of your actions. Frisk seemed interested in the idea, so you two were often found together. _

_ It was odd that some days you were optimistic, and other days you were ready to ditch school anytime, anyday. _

_ Watching Ash and Pikachu communicate so effortlessly with no one else the wiser gave the two of you an idea, which you proposed to An-Li on the next (blessed) weekend. _

_ You were going to learn a secret language! _

_ There were criteria for the new language. _

  * _It had to be non-verbal. (All three of you were becoming increasingly scared of speaking, at least English)_
  * No touching (That was scarier)
  * It had to be relatively discreet.

  
  


_ There were now two possible candidates.  _

_ A type of sign language that could be used when alone, and Morse Code, to use outside that could be disguised as light fidgeting. _

_ In all of your childlike indecisiveness, you three decided to learn both. _

_ It was the most  _ ** _determined_ ** _ anyone had seen you in a very long time. _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ Learning took three weeks, practice took Winter Break, and usage happened instantly. _

_ Even you, the native English speaker, had forgotten some words. Just the important ones were left, and Danish from your Grandmor, which nobody from your family knew heads or tails of. _

_ The other two were so ecstatic when they realized you knew a new language, that they instantly started practicing with their rusty vocal chords. It even snapped Frisk back home (you’d been missing them).You, in return, became semi-competent at their languages. (Except Japanese, that one still eluded you, to this day) _

_ Languages became your thing, and the Trio made it a point to learn as many as possible. _

_ By the end of the year, hablaís Spanish, Hindi, Mandarin, Danish, ASL, ESL, Morse code and a bit of Malay. _

_ Even the bad thoughts stopped coming in English. _

_ All three of your English grades suffered. _

_ An-Li became Mai, some days. _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_It’s Springtime when you’re cornered by your __Dad _**_Far_** _about...everything, really._

_ You can see that he’s so, so worried, and he’s talking to you, and you Understand, but- _

_ You can’t say anything back. You try digging up any, any English you still remember, and manage to form disjointed sentences. _

_ It’s okay enough, just about grades, and your friends, when he asks-- _

_ “Why are you always hurt?” _

_ You freeze. And try to come up with an excuse,  _ ** _a n y t h i n g_ **

  
  


** _Din Skyld/Din Skyld/Din Skyld/Din Skyld/Din Skyld_ **

_ You try to deflect, you really do, and he seems to believe it… _

_ Until he asks why some bruises are in the shape of hands and fists _

_ You don’t think that he expected your reaction, at all. _

_ You start, after so long of being quiet enough to barely be heard, _

** _Screaming_ ** _ . _

_ And then you’re  _ ** _screaming_ ** _ and you’re  _ ** _crying_ ** _ , and you feel like your vocal chords are getting really badly strained but they’re the last things you can destroy at this point and-- _

_ You think you passed out, because you really don’t remember anything but black after that, even if the counselor says (Adults are useless, why should he listen) that he was repressing the memory. _

_ The parents complain, _

_ The kids hit harder. _

_ Repeat the cycle, unless the hit never tell. _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ It’s after that incident, when you start hiding things. _

_ Ms. Hayes and her Brother were aptly terrified about the goings-on, but there was really nothing they could do, because the kid’s families had money. A lot of it. _

_ Frisk disappears for weeks on end, And Mai is in the front (the happy one) most days. You yourself do your best to disappear, but you’re stuck. One night you begged Frisk to take them with you, and they snapped back in and held you close on that sleepover. You weren’t gone the next day with them. _

_ So for now, they had to pretend nothing was wrong. Bandages out of sight, layers, master makeup for the checkups, No-bruise spray from the pharmacy, a n y t h i n g. _

** _“Nothing’s wrong, we’re okay. No need to worry!”_ **

_ Everything was wrong _

_ \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

_ The Trio are Eight. _

_ The third is the only one who knows why she cries when the kids put white chrysthanthemums on the three of your desks, why she tells them to throw them away, when her friends ask, all she says is- _

_ “Gǔgē yīxià” (Google it) _

_ It’s her fault that they come back crying, isn’t it. Mai says no, but she knows. _

_ The third is the second-best liar, the first wins, and the second simply plays along. The stories are rather believable.  _

_ “It’s getting colder out!” _

_ Use makeup stolen from vanity tables, unscented  _

** _Keep smiling_ **

** _Talk sometimes, even if it’s scary_ **

** _If Mai wants to front, let her._ **

** _The longer Frisk can stay home, the better. (Though if they’re gone, isn’t it easier? Would disappearing make it simpler for both you and Jacob?)_ **

** _Don’t let them know anything is wrong_ **

** _Just keep freaking pushing!_ **

_ \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  _

_ The trio are still eight when the teachers say that there’s a field trip. _

_ While everyone else is cheering, the trio are slowly trying to wipe off the slurs written on their desks, trying to hide the chrysthanthemums. _

_ Trying to wipe off tears. _

_ They are strong, but the pillar is about to fall, and the bad thoughts aren’t leaving. _

_ So they hide, and with the ever worsening rain, they carry an extra rain jacket. Partly to hide the bruises. Now, sometimes it’s blood, and scars take a while to heal. Some don’t. _

_ \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  _

_ The pillar  _ ** _breaks_ ** _ when The first goes missing. _

_ They were supposed to protect each other, and they didn’t and now it’s your fault-- _

_ Even Mai, your anchor, your sister in all ways but a separate body, doesn’t know what to do anymore. _

** _Anata no sei/Din Skyld/Anata no sei/Din Skyld_ **

_ When they come home, and Frisk still isn’t there and they can’t help because they’re  _ ** _useless worthless, crapsticks_ ** _ and they can’t do anything right--- _

_ It was the worst week of your lives. _

_ (You will never, never admit it, but once, on a horrible night, Jacob leaning flush against you, part of you hoped that Frisk had finally flown away, somewhere happier. You push the thought away before it flowers.) _

_ \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  _

_ They leave school the next day, go to one further out the district, or at least they will. _

_ Frisk comes home a week later, smiling,  _ ** _home_ ** _ (after so, so long), bringing so many kind monsters who helped them, who tended to the wounds, who have  _ ** _MAGIC,_ ** _ for flip’s sake! _

_ It’s the first time any of you have smiled for real since you all were six. It’s a nice feeling, stretching your cheeks and the smile reaching your eyes for once. _

_ You stop wearing the makeup, let people help with the scarring, the cuts that healed wrong. The kind goat lady helps with the green glow magic, which Frisk and An-Li are trying to learn. You do your best on the lifting, cyan stuff, which you do with Frisk, and you keep trying, that whole winter. _

_ Frisk is an ambassador for a while, but after a panic attack right before a speech, they step down. _

_ (Frisk will tell her and Mai and Jacob, on a windy night five years later, tearfully that in another world that thought bloomed, and both you and Jacob were gone by the time they came home. You’ll hold them close, and never let yourself think like that again.) _

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Even now, five years later, the scars haven’t healed properly.

_The first_ **Frisk** is scared of touching, is trying to learn how to accept it properly again, and it’s getting easier. They came home, truly, properly after six months of fleeting existence, and stopped floating except for the worst days a year later.

_The second_ **Jacob** is scared of loud noises, but he’s listening to music, raising the volume by a single bar every week. It’s set back every so often, but that’s what soundproofing and noise-cancelling headphones exist for. The happy days outnumber the numb ones.

_The third_ **An-Li** is scared of medicine, and hospitals, only does any real application on herself. She’s learning healing magic still, to help others. She hates small spaces, being locked in closets ting its toll, and on those days Mai fronts. Now that her parents know about it, Mai is a sister she talks to and finds comfort in, with her siblings of another parentage and separate bodies.

Their parents talk with each other, group up, make sacrifices to be with their kids more, teach them the most important rule-

_ “No Pretending.” _

The nice Goat Lady moves in with Frisk, and when, with a little bit of magic, her lost son comes home, he stays too, as a brother. The monster couple were supposed to move out when they could get a place of their own and a job to support it, but even after both conditions are achieved they reptilian women stay with Jacob, as support, as aunt figures, as friends.The funny skeletons stay with An-Li because they love jokes, cringing at spaghetti and helping people, even if the only help they need is lugging each other out of bed on a lazy day or a bad day.

They become family.

Small smiles become laughs which become loud, happy guffaws.

The barest brush of fingers becomes holding hands and laying flush next to each other which becomes enthused embraces.

Sometimes, after a shootout by extremists, the progress halts, The Trio relapses, but they climb up again, every time. They are strong, and they have a support foundation.

After one year, The trio learned to touch each other again.

In a year and six months, they can touch their families, slightly.

In two years, They stop using sign language for everything and use their voices again

In two years and four months, Asriel comes home.

In two and a half years, people stop trying to always hurt the wonderful monsters they call family.

After three years, An-Li finds out about a ghost her age staying with Frisk. They keep it a secret until _the ghost_ **Chara** is ready to come out.

In three and a half years, their grades stabilise, entering the high B’s to mid A’s, including English. (though that one’s still a B)

In four years, Frisk gets a new set of siblings, and they become scared again for a while, but it slips eventually, and they are all trying to deal with it, together.

They are trying, and if they start leaving their bodies in fear of their minds, someone will come, soothe them, ease them back in.

It’s a good time to be thirteen.

Eight years ago, there was no such thing as peace, 

Now it is coming slowly, slowly.

Listen for it, and it will come to you.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2360 words, excluding beginning and end notes  
Easily my longest chapter so far


	11. it's not the fall that kills you, it's the landing after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was a flashback, if you haven't figured that out already.
> 
> T.W For Gun Violence, Eye trauma, light body horror, anything that comes with a shootout.
> 
> Please be kind to yourself and read at your own discretion!
> 
> Information-
> 
> ! - Michelle - Purple - Perseverance
> 
> @ - Toco - Green - Kindness
> 
> # - Raina - Indigo - Integrity
> 
> $ - Mike - Cyan/Teal - Patience
> 
> % - Dev - Orange - Bravery
> 
> ^ - Bridget - Yellow - Justice
> 
> Italicised speech- Chara  
Italics and underlined speech- Frisk

**f / r / i / s / k**

Things had been looking up.

Most of your headspace secrets had been made common family knowledge at this point, and the final Barrierfall anniversary was coming up, on September 20th.

So yes, one could say that there was some excitement.

School had a holiday scheduled for September 18th to 21st, so schoolwork wasn’t a problem yet, at least not until January’s pre-final exams. But those could be worried about later.

_ ! I disagree with this! Revising should take your utmost priority. _

_ How about...no? _

_ $ Yeah! No school! _

Eitherway, you’d found your garb, with An-Li, and you looked _ great _.

For you, it was wearing Nani’s old Kurti, and pairing it with your Abuela’s old shawl, because you’d admire the pieces for years, and they’d tell you; 

“Wait till you’re thirteen, _ Mija _.”

But now you were old enough, and the dark crimson and black design paired with the eclectically coloured shawl, and the ribbons braided into a lock of your hair, courtesy of your mother were complementing each other so awesomely, that even you, the person who could actually go through a school day without realizing they were still in pajamas, couldn’t not stop to look in the mirror every so often, and giggle at the surrealness of it all.

An-Li though…

_ She looked spectacular _.

_ (You were trying not to look earlier, and failed miserably after five minutes.) _

  
  


She was wearing a royal blue Ao Dai, courtesy of her Dì Nội, and it cut off mid-calf, the length covering her feet covered by a cream-coloured underdress, because she was finally tall enough to wear an adult's Ao Dai, and not the kid-sized ones, that (like all asian clothing in this city) were made by machines, and looked plasticky and fake. This one was made by her Bà Nội’s Bà Nội, and so was super frigging old. Her hair was done in a Anime-styled pair of space-buns, with most of her long, dark hair cascading behind her. The embroidery was done in the same crimson as your Kurta, and your mothers said that you looked ‘‘Like a right pair!’’

“Heyyyy, stop staring!” she nudges your hand, and you blink rapidly, tensing. You didn’t realize.

So you scramble to save face. She’s looking at you with an impish look in her eye that you find flipping adorable--

“H-Hey! You were staring too!” You manage to say without stammering more than once. Actually, you don’t actually know if she was looking or not.The look disappears, and is replaced by one that looks slightly embarrassed.

“Guilty as charged!”, and she starts giggling, face in a really nice shade of pink, like her hair-tie yesterday--

_ Oh shoot, _

She was staring back.

You giggle along with her, since it buys you time to process that chunk of information. Once it has been filed away safely, the two of you go to look for Jacob, since he was changing in the next room.

_ (You’d been incessantly careful to hide the scars of your RESETS in the Underground. Three diamond shaped, jagged marks, and countless skin-blue dots are a bit hard to explain, even to them. They don’t need to know that you _ ** _died_ ** _ .) _

But Jacob doesn’t look too shabby himself. You don’t know what most of these garments are called, but he’s wearing a shirt, with a forest-green jacket, a matching kilt, and white socks. The pins, knot and knife hidden in his sock are all decorated in the same blue you’re wearing, and you think it’s pretty cool. You hear the_ click-clack _of his black clogs approaching from behind, and you turn to give him a quick hug, and An-Li joins in. His red hair looks particularly fiery, in all the green. You remember that his mother’s side is Danish, and he’s decided to dress as his mostly inherited Irish side, even if he barely knows the language as of now. Eh, you’ll all learn soon enough.

_ (You've all done a pretty good job so far) _

But Asriel, Toriel and Asgore come from downstairs soon after, dressed in their own traditional finery, just like every other monster, and Amma, dressed in a crimson and black Sari matching yours, and a multicoloured Dupatta reminiscent of your shawl, royal blue Chooriyan jangling, takes your hand, and you take your brother’s hand with your free one, the rest of the Trio linking arms with their own families, as you head out.

You’ve seen this park decorated slowly more exquisitely as time went on. The first year, it was just the amphitheatre, with Golden and Echo flowers adorning the place, making it glow, almost, echo flowers whispering back the promises made four years ago, by both races to this day. The next year, the entire neighborhood was decked out it red, purple, blue and the two flowers, third year, the city. Now, for the final ceremony, all of Ebott has been dyed these colours, and everything feels...alive, somehow. Even obviously dead autumn leaves.

You giggle when Asgore and Amma hoist Asriel and yourself up, firmly planting you on their sturdy, dependable shoulders respectively, taking you two to the venue, and giving you the highest vantage point of anyone else there…

_ Except _ Alphys.

She’s on Undyne’s shoulders, and Undyne’s taller than Asgore, and while you’re nearly three feet taller than the yellow dinosaur, Undyne more than makes up for it.

You and Alphys are set down once you get to the amphitheatre, and on the way down, you think you see a flicker of movement, but that could just be paranoia.

Soon enough, you and Undyne are sparring, nothing but bare fists, to see if you’re any better. You are, but not by as much as you’d usually be. What with everything regarding the SOUL’s, you’ve only had about two or three training sessions with Ree so far, and he was dealing with his school tests, because fifth grade meant moving-up tests, and that meant studying.

But it was a pretty good thing to know that you could use that incessant paranoia, and channel it into something beneficial, like reflexes and predictions, instead of just putting you on edge all the time. You vowed that you’d train more from now on, to see if you could use those reflexes outside a combat situation.

You and An-Li had already made good use of any magic you already knew, levitating hair to stay in one place, and for annoying Asriel, healing over cuts and bruises from life in general, and Jacob had learned some indigo agility magic, making him a lot faster in...any situation.

_ (You think that that’s how you got home so fast, when you panicked back in June, over having crazy kids in your head, and smack yourself internally for not realising. Chara puts a stop to that real quick.) _

_ ! Oh, this will be a very good learning experience! _

_ @ Gosh, Mich, why make everything boooooooring??? I was looking for a partyyyyy… _

_ ! Hey! Toco! Education is just as important as fun! _

_ ^ Oh stop your quarreling, you little twits. _

_ % Yeah Bridget! I wanna have FUN! No fighting! _

_ That would be appreciated. Now let’s flipping PARTY! _

_ # You know the world’s ended when a four-year old who was dead until eight months ago has more vulgar language than an emotionally jaded twelve year old who’s playing host to eight crazy kids. _

_ Eh...pretty much at this point, Raina. I quit. _

_ Join the club. Let’s do this thing! Last chance and all! _

  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Asgore’s speech was great, as usual, but you were feeling antsy again.

Throughout it, you kept seeing little flickers of movement, and when you tried to tell someone, it was drowned out by music. It was, at least easier to run in this Kurti and black leggings, so you could at least share your suspicions with An-Li, because Jacob had to go early for a sprained foot.

In hindsight, it was probably better for him and his family, since two trio members would be getting really injured by the end of it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the speech, everything ended up happening pretty fast. Even eleven years later, it becomes really hard to remember most of it, apart from the brief flashes of memory that came that day.

It all started inconspicuously enough.The music was loud, people were dancing, and Jacob had gone because of a mildly twisted ankle, due to the little-worn clogs, and the noise. The paranoia from earlier wasn’t going away, and the newly-risen moon was wan against the bright lights and the dark, cloudy sky. Fireworks were exploding left and right, and you were trying to find Amma, or An-Li, whoever came first.

Turns out, it was An-Li who came first. You did your best to explain the flashes of movement that you kept seeing, and she, shockingly (at least to you) has seen them too. But nobody really believed her. So you kept your eyes peeled, ready at the slightest hint of danger.

This is where the fast part starts.

You saw an actual figure emerge from yet another flicker of movement, only now it’s in the form of a middle-aged man with a gun in hand---

Oh god he’s _shooting he’s**shooting-**_

An-Li, at the same time as you, jumps from place, and you see her jump in front of Papyrus, but he’s aiming again, and it’s pointed at Asriel-

_ **No.** _

You don’t remember jumping in front of him, don’t remember the blood, (perhaps because the kurta hid it all, and you’re glad that you didn’t ruin it) you just remember one, resolute ‘No’.

The world went black before you could register anything else. Not even the kids shrieking in your head.

  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**a / s / r / i / e / l**

For him, everything was kind of a blur.

He remembers Frisk getting in front, him and nobody noticing the blood or the fact they were hurt until the blood started dripping off, because of the colour of their dress, until they _keeledoverpassed out **almost<strike>d ied.</strike>**_

He remembers the police and Undyne (who is technically a police chief but whatever) apprehending him, while Frisk and You and An-Li were taken in an ambulance, Jacob in hysterics over the phone, his parents almost as panicked as him for the five minutes too long ride.

He remembers being told to eat some monster food, because he got a bit grazed anyway, but he could have died and now his sibling’s gonna die and, _and.._

He remembers Mom, and Emily sitting on either side of him, the latter keeping her own panic in check until she’s certain that Frisk will be okay _and-_

He remembers being whispered to on all sides; “Not your fault, not your fault, not your fault…” even though he’s still having trouble believing it.

He remembers being told, three hours later, in between hos moms, Dad and Uncle Dan, and An-Li’s parents that An-Li was going to lose an eye, and Frisk was always going to have pain in that shoulder _forever and ever because there would be an actual HOLE and-_

He remembers, the day after, having to see An-Li sedated, space buns incompetently untangled, beautiful dress replaced by a stark white hospital gown, hair covering what should have been a clear, indigo coloured eye.

He remembers, three hours later, hearing his sibling **screaming** against sedatives and painkillers because they didn’t want to sleep, and the cries were _so, so loud_, and Emily couldn't even stay in the building, and Mom had to look away to hide the tears and Uncle Dan was just crying, _crying_.

He remembers the entire family, same house or not, seeming to hold their breath, Jacob receding into his bed with the noise-cancelling headphones, refusing to eat or get out of there.

He remembers, two days later, when the doctors tell them that An-Li is stable, that she won’t lose her vision because of a really good healer, and that Frisk can finally sleep on just the painkillers now.

He remembers,

Jacob getting out of bed and talking again,

An-Li’s parents finally sleeping,

Mom stopping her stress baking,

Sans getting himself to go out again,

Papyrus becoming his old cheerful self again,

Mettaton’s annoying singing voice making a comeback,

Undyne passionately suplexing furniture again,

Alphys leaving her depressed haze, finally,

Asgore filing away the photo album of you and Chara,

Emily and Uncle Dan drawing again, drinking tea and sleeping instead of seven shots of espresso,

Jacob’s family checking with the hospital again,

Monster kid playing outside and using terrible slang again,

But the one thing he forgot to see were the patients themselves.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff that happened here is gonna have really far-reaching consequences.
> 
> 2077 words
> 
> Comment your thoughts underneath! Non-archive users can comment too! They're not data miners!
> 
> For foreign terms-
> 
> Nani- Hindi word for 'Grandmother' (maternal)  
Abuela- Spanish word for grandmother, in this context, paternal.  
Kurti- Traditional Indian dress.  
Ao Dai- Traditional Vietnamese dress  
Dì Nội- Paternal aunt in Vietnamese  
Bà Nội- Grandmother in Vietnamese  
Sari- Another piece of Indian formalwear  
Dupatta- Shawl, worn in a certain style depending on who you ask.  
Chooriyan (sing. Choori)- Bangles
> 
> Look the clothes up, they Look SO COOL, you won't regret it.
> 
> And yes, it is a Celtic custom to have a knife concealed in your sock.


	12. it's a long way down, but I'm closer to the clouds up here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild swearing, keep your eye/s out!
> 
> So... the aftermath. Been trying to write in other POV' s lately, and the next one is in Asriel's, so look out for that!
> 
> T/W: eye horror, flashbacks to a scene of semi-graphic gun violence, basically the last chapter.

**/ f r i s k /**

The first thing you remember from waking up is the absolute pain in your arm.

It’s not as horrible as Undyne’s spears, but definitely worse than the trident.

_ Frisk, are you okay? _

You take in your surroundings, seeing that you’re in a hospital. Unsettling, but it’s something you could live with. There’s a sterilised plexiglass table to your right, with the locket in the centre, maple leaf glowing in the moonlight. Dully, you realise it’s probably nighttime. There’s a chocolate bar next to it, and you know, what with your senses returning, that that chocolate bar doubles as a painkiller. As much as you wished you didn’t need it at all, you probably would at some point soon. And you didn’t need them until your pain levels hit the ICU standard, or at least sleep-drug standard.

(_ You start remembering screaming, probably from you, against things trying to make you sleep, trying to kill you, and your mother, waif-like silhouette at the window, turning her head, Uncle Dan crying so much, and it hurt more than your shoulder in that moment _)

You shake your head, willing the memory to recede. So, your shoulder is currently hurting like hell, the painkillers have worn off, and there is in fact a divider leading to another room.

You force yourself up from under the (heavy, probably shipped from home) comforter, and sit there for just a minute, to get your bearings.

**/ a n - l i /**

When you woke up, it was three in the morning and you didn’t have an eye on the left side of your face.

Not that you would’ve realized from the quality of sight like, whatsoever. Your depth perception, upon further analysis works fine. Said further analysis also makes you painfully aware that you’re in a hospital room.

This is fine, if not mildly confusing.

_ Paranoid, just a bit freakier than usual- _

_ Okay, something’s up if Frisk’s feeling it too- _

_ Strange dude striding up, gun in hand _

_ Where in _ ** _shit_ ** _ is the safety-- _

_ Oh god he’s shooting, shooting shooting-- _

_ Red in an eye _

_ Red in the other _

_ There’s something else- _

_ Nothing. _

Everything is all of a sudden not fine. You are taken in the urge to move _ somewhere, _ ** _anywhere_ ** away from the damn bloodstains, so you hop out of our bed, papery hospital gown and shrug from your (very full) bedside your only defence from the hospital air-conditioning kind of cold.

You realise that you have been given permission, from the new face-scanners on the dividers, to see the room next to yours. You think it could’ve been someone hurt in the...incident, but your heart lurches and your stomach weighs down like lead and you stop thinking about it.

Pulling the divider aside, you see a figure in a black tank top, and hospital slacks, as far as your vision lets you see. There’s dark brown, nearly black hair, this and wispy, mussed up and flying around them, and they turn, all light-brown-yellow skin, moonlight illuminating a familiar face. It’s definitely one you never wanted to see here ever again.

You can see the eyes now, crimson and cobalt, blood and deep ocean, long fingers, agile hands (that take yours so well) and those very eyes sparking with recognition and--

Frisk gets themself up, till there’s about a foot’s distance between the two of you. There’s an unspoken question, and an unspoken answer, going both ways.

You too?

Yep.

You speak first, seeing as there’s that familiar look on your friend’s face, that their _ throats closed up and they will _ ** _hate_ ** _ themselves for it _, so you take their hand, slowly, and they flinch, but their fingers curl around yours delicately, all the same, and they go in a bit closer, so you don’t even need to reach forward to keep their hand warm, safe in yours, and they keep your hand, and you sit, flush against each other, and do your best to talk first, get the worst of it out of the way. You push the thick, black mane that is your hair out of your face, revealing the bare, unindented patch of skin where once upon a time, there was an eye.

When your heads both turn, barely, Frisk tenses, but you start anyway, making sure that you’re both safe. (_ And yes, perhaps it’s also for your own sanity _)

“I don’t have an eye anymore.” Seeing the sadness and the question in their eyes, you continue, quickly; “I can see just fine, it’s not like Undyne. Are you okay?” It’s a dumb question, the counter on your friend’s bed says they spent a day in the Intensive Care Unit (_ not even the kid one, it was so bad apparently _) and that they’ve been here for the same amount of time as you. But it’s better than leaving them without any incentive, so you asked anyway. They’d do the same for you. They have before.

Their vocal chords still don’t seem to be doing them any favors, so they lft one hand from your hold (there is a brief disappointment there, but you REFUSE to analyze that now) and bring it to your face. It’s hovering about an inch above, and their giving you a look, asking you a question.

Is this okay?

And it is. You nod, and they put their fingers, brushing lightly, agile and capable and calloused and strong, and it goes over where there used to be lashes, dark and long, an orb, bluer than that blizzard blue crayon from Crayona or some company like that. It’s a good feeling, even if there’s a pit in your gut, grieving for that eye, and you smirk, breathily, when sometimes it tickles. Slowly, your friend starts smiling too.

What happened to them? They answer that particular question relatively quickly.

**/ f r i s k /**

What happened to you?

It’s not an easy question to answer, and your throat still feels like staying close, but you owe your friend an answer, so you at least ask for Michelle’s help. She’s good at this crap, and seems to have gained some influence over your vocal chords anyway.

_ ! Don’t ask me how, Scarlet. But I’ll help, she’s nice. _

_ $ Yeah! Go get em, buddy ‘ol pal! _

… Thank you.

With the renewed support, and kind words, sounds of laughter still ringing in your mind from your friend, seconds _ (it feels like a lifetime ago all of a sudden) _ ago, you talk.

“There’s a hole in my shoulder. Bullet, protecting Asriel and doing the dumb by just jumping.” You say it fast, and avert your eyes to escape the look of unadulterated horror on An-Li’s face, hiding in a kind of shame. You need to hurry, get it out of your system, fast, or the memories will consume you whole, leaving nothing but a husk behind--

“The bullet got stuck, there was a risk of infection, too many painkillers.” That’s the end of the story, and you pull your friend close, in a way that only she and Jacob will let your mind do (Anyone else, even your mother, get the automatic response of stay away, please, don’t hurt me, not again. The guilt drowns you.)

She stays close, tears coming only out of a single, glassy orb, and Chara, (wonderful, wonderful friend that they are, where would you be without them) come up and keep their arms around the two of you, all of the other six, coming out not at full strength to keep you awake, but there nevertheless (You’ve come to love them, care so much that it hurts-) and take perches on different ends of the room, staying close.

Nine people, two shadows.

Nd as the morning light trickles in, maybe an hour, maybe a second later, and their glow becomes less stark with the purple-orange-yellow sunrise, as they slowly become nothing more than presences, staying to keep you home, fears at bay. And your family come in to check, at some point, that’s exactly where you are, Jacob joining in.

Tangled together, all five eyes reflecting the sky.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Comment underneath!
> 
> Edit: as of 26|01|20, this chapter has art drawn by yours truly! But if you wanna send art to me, don't hesitate! I'd LOVE seeing it !!!
> 
> https://idrawtoomuch-makes-illustrations.tumblr.com/post/190476861788/art-i-made-for-my-fic-seventale-link-to-my-ao3
> 
> (art link)


	13. ring around the roses, pocketful of posies...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's one really dark chapter left, then another told from the Monsters's point of view (which I like the sound of, I don't write them much, which makes me sad) and then we finally move to the RECOVERY aspect of this!
> 
> And re-readers from earlier may have realised I might have changed story details unannounced. That's because I'm learning more and more about trauma, and how not everyone reacts the same way. Recovery would be similar.
> 
> And hey, exams are over! Summer's here! COVID-19 is too, and that's less fun, but it just be like that sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... This has been planned out on paper since January by now, but it was a hard thing to type up. I hope I did this part justice, and if you find any errors at all, please comment them down, it'd mean a lot.
> 
> Check out my Tumblr! You can yell at me there-- https://idrawtoomuch-makes-illustrations.tumblr.com
> 
> With all that said, enjoy the angst! There's one or two more dark chapters left, but w can bear it a bit longer, right?

Ring around the roses, pocketful of posies…

** _/ j a c o b /_ **

You think it’s probably about time you saw your friends.

Yeah, sure that even you’ve had your share of problems, and the two were literally released from the hospital five hours ago, but that’s five hours too long so you’re going to get your act together and see them. Besides, he could be cheerful for a little longer, right?

When you enter <strike>Ms. Hayes’s</strike> Emily’s house in the afternoon, they’re watching Steven Universe Future on the shared Webflix account. The stuff for the eye’s nearly over with, so save for an appointment tomorrow, An-Li’s only got to get used to the feeling, as she texted earlier. Frisk hasn’t said much, since they can’t use their left for a couple more days, but they’ll be ready in time for school. Thank god.

An-Li picks up on your thoughts when you join your still-mute friends (Well, you haven’t been saying much either) because she texts you, leaving some space on the couch for you to slide in, Frisk on the other end looping their good arm around the two of you.

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Frisk realised they’d probably have to tell someone about the shoulder pain when it acted up even after taking painkillers.

It was after lunch when their entire rag-tag family had gone up to their mother and uncle’s room. Amma and Dan were explaining something to Emika auntie, Uncle Lee and Uncle Jonas were trying to school each other on some mobile game or the other, Asriel and Alphys were watching Princess Mononoke, and they and the Trio were just...talking, like they usually did. In Danish this time, for Jacob’s sake.

(When they hear about what their families went through while they were gone, the guilt raises its arms around their neck, clawing around your throat, sucking the voice out of them.)

When their shoulder starts aching, you take a painkiller chocolate piece. Discreetly.

The pain doesn’t stop. They take another. It doesn’t stop. By now they’ve already overstepped their painkiller prescription so they just kind of live with it, steadily getting worse. On particularly bad patches, they shrug it rapidly and divert their mind to the conversation, not really aware of what they’re saying.

There isn’t much left to do but bear it, and guilt still has a tight hold around their neck, and everyone is just so happy that they don’t want to ruin it (like they usually do).

So they smile, laugh a little and bear it.

(_Emotions were leaving their head, leaving nothing but static and a numb feeling of using the blur function on IbisPaint on their own surroundings._)

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

<strike>/ d a n /</strike> a d i /

You love your family.

It’s considered common knowledge at this point. Frisk sometimes slips up and calls you ‘dad’ every so often, people think you’re their dad unless Aishu’s there too, hell, even relatives slip up sometimes.

Frisk came out to you fourth, and that’s a big deal, and showed you their scars from the **_<strike>kids</strike>_** bullying first, because they were worried that the others would be worried, which is less nice. So you never talk about it. At all. At least after telling your sister.

So when you get a hunch that something’s up, you figure it’s in your best interests to roll with it.

Your kids (by now these guys were pretty much your collective kids, yeah) were a bit...off today. Actually hiding things from each other. You didn’t understand a word they were saying, but they way their conversation was more cautious, and stilted, it was pretty easy to figure out. This was such a drastically new concept that you couldn’t believe it at first.

But both Jacob and Frisk weren’t telling each other something today now that An-Li’s left for now. She needs a final checkup before school reopens on Monday, so she’s headed to the clinic first thing tomorrow, since it’s started getting late.

Conversation has stilled for the moment, Frisk looking out of the window pensively, and Jacob laying his fluffy red head on their good shoulder. He takes the opportunity to enter.

“ Hey, kiddos? What’s up?” you ask, plopping down criss-crossed on the bed with your kids. They’re sitting a bit further from you, trauma ( you hate ha_te **hate**_ that word, you **_seethe_**) rearing it’s stupid head. They were speaking in Danish before, but switching over to Spanish for your sake. Softly still, because Jacob was feeling like shit. So seeing the small flinch from your sudden outburst (and ignoring the sadness pooling in your stomach), you tone down your own voice.

“No mas” [𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙]

They’re lying.

They’re scary good liars

_(Your fault for not noticing and telling sooner)_

_(Your fault for joking about the rain)_

_(Your fault. Always)_

You take in a nice deep breath to pull yourself together, strong as steel. Your family needs you now more than ever since Frisk got lost on Mt. Ebott.

(_You remember crying, desperate, far too small children pulling their hair, lost in their heads with bitten fingernails, screaming, terrified, not realising what they were doing to themselves while filled to the brim with HATE and FEAR till they couldn’t take it anymore. It was already too late when you and Aishi realised that Frisk was far, far away, Jacob flipped between good and bad, and An-Li had two An-Li’s in her body. One’s name was Mai._)

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” in hindi. It was code for ‘don’t lie, nobody will hurt you here’.

Christ on a bike that’s messed up.

But the two speak up, after a mental argument on who to speak first, and you see your kid’s eyes turn a clear, vibrant indigo, irises like small pieces of lapis.

“The Underground. The eighth time, I think. Lost count.” For perhaps the eightieth time this goddamned year, you don’t understand what the kids are even talking about. But it's very clear that Raina (_the integrity SOUL, you know her best from the moments on Lazy days where she takes the reigns, the atmosphere reminding her of home_) had control, because those eyes snap -almost desperate looking- back into crimson, darker than blood, lighter than tar and dark cobalt, nearly black but still resembling a sapphire at its darkest, looking distinctly like their owner has said far, far too much.

(_This is your own little secret, but deep inside, you long for the days before elementary school started, because even though this little makeshift family was reeling from Diego’s death, Emily and yourself were just starting to smile again, and Frisk had two brown, normal, hazel eyes, bright and shining with wonder. It hurt as those orbs dulled and darkened over the years to become nearly grey as they left you for weeks on end, it hurt when Frisk came up the mountain, eyes red, cautious and always ready to be hurt again_.)

“Sorry.” It’s okay, kiddo.

Jacob goes next, but it becomes a bunch of incoherent crying soon after, because he cries, he screams so loud that he has to use his own headphones to block _himself_ out, which hasn’t happened in actual _years_. He cries about being too afraid to see his siblings in hospital after the first time because there was so much blood and pain and **S C R E A M I N G**, and you want to put your arm around him, say it’ll all be fine, but that’s a promise you tried to make years ago, and it only got worse.

It becomes a panic attack fast enough, broken children (_Frisk looks one touch away from disappearing themselves_) trying to keep themselves in order, and you intervene as fast as humanly possible (_but not fast enough, it’s already beyond your control_), and Aishi, your sister, your pillar comes in with Jonas, being as quiet as possible, whispering and avoiding touch like the plague, and you help in a little ways such as talking Jacob down best you possibly can, keeping everyone out of the three foot minimum distance set for when Frisk and Jacob get like this. And Frisk hasn’t cried since coming home from the hospital, since _waking up_ if An-Li’s statement is anything to believe, and they don’t cry still, heaving in place, and trying to hold out their hands to their brother, and failing, reflexively flinching away, looking heartbroken. Jacob’s headphones fell out at some point, and the whirring sound from the fan isn’t doing him favors. So everything is kept quiet, as he cries, shutting his ears to keep himself away while being carried by his dad, and they disappear down the moonlit street, back to their small house on the other end of the street, a safe haven from unwanted sound.

Now finally alone (_or as alone as someone gets with seven voices and a ghost in their head and out of it._), Frisk cries, softly, trying to muffle it in their pajamas, seemingly not there anymore, blanked out, empty like they were six years ago, when they realised (in those horrific days) that feeling anything at all was probably a shitty idea and they **ｓｔｏｐｐｅｄ** . (_It took a year to get their kid back to the hollow husk of a body they’d left behind. Two years for it to set in._)

(_There’s a sob ready in your throat, but you don't give it form, biting the inside of your cheek and swallowing._)

Your kid’s on the bed that you and your sister share, because there has never been a point in your life, except a brief, five year period in which you’d not shared a bed, and they’re still gone. Aishi and you wrap them up in featherlight blankets, because they love the feeling on days like these, when they’re too far to get to, for when they finally come back home (_safe and sound, back to you and Aishi_).

They’re pretty much asleep, when you start clearing your side of the bed of journals and doodles strewn around from your drawing frenzy a few days ago, just before all this happened. The couch is the better sleeping option during tough times, but at the moment, that isn’t possible.

Mai calls later, wanting to know what’s happening, An-Li soon after. Thay hang up after finding out that none of their friends can talk, promising to get food tomorrow, because food is a godsend to all traumatized children (and adults) in this household.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s only later, when you and Aishi are preparing to go to bed yourselves, somewhere around ten, with Asriel at a sleepover with MK, this evening unknown to him. (_And **god**, you’d keep it that way, these kids have suffered enough_) You’re talking softly, about meaningless things in Punjabi, to keep your thoughts private should Frisk wake up.

“You know it wasn’t ever, ever your fault, right?” Your sister says slowly, so soft one could’ve completely missed it in another situation. But how is it all not your fault? In the end, it always was, always would be, and nothing could change that. You’d agreed with your parents, downplaying the weather, when CLEARLY something was very very wrong, you’d never noticed anything from Frisk until they came up and TOLD you, and by then they were too far gone to care. You’d never checked Frisk’s health against the field trip chart, and then they went missing, and An-Li was split in two, and Jacob became a pendulum in the most literal way possible by the time you did, and now, you were working, and then An-Li loses and eye and Frisk gets shot and Jacob’s a wreck and even cheerful, resilient Mai doesn’t know what to do anymore and---

It’s Aishi’s stricken expression (_You did that too, dumbass_) that lets you know you said all that aloud in one long tangent.

Everything, everything you’ve ever held back, smiled in front of has come back to bite you, because now you’re choking-and it’s like lead covering covering and you cant even breathe it hurts hurts hurts and there’s ringing ring ring ring in your ears and--

“Adi--”

You choke.

“-di?”

Hands clutch hair (_nothing but carbon oxygen hydrogen over and over and over and--_)

“ADI! LISTEN TO ME!”

You <strike>flinch</strike> startle (_You don’t flinch, nope, never._) And look u, everything still constricting everywhere, and it aches and aches and HURTS but-

Aishi’s there.

It’s your sister, black hair, coffee skin and hair mid length, falling in waves, eyes shining like emeralds like Ammi’s and her own SOUL, and she’s here here here here--

You rush into her open arms, trying to become as small as humanly possible. It’s good that Asgore and Toriel aren’t here either, gone till tomorrow night, at a gardening conference, because you don’t think they can handle so much in one night.

And your sister stays, pulling you near, letting your own hair, thin and wispy get mussed about even more as you press together, desperate, because she’s your sister, and you’ve always been closer than regular siblings and you need to stay stay stay please please please please--

“Dad?”

It’s Frisk, barely present (as their eyes show), but there, and they take your hand, the one peeking from behind their mother, and you breathe properly this time, the chokehold releasing, finally.

“I guess that’s the whole family then, heh.” It’s Frisk’s attempt at humor. It’s always been a bit dark (_read: very very very dark_), but they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true. They look at all three of your interlocked hands for a moment, breathe as if preparing themselves (and they are, and so are you to an extent) and they melt into you, leaving a millimeter or two of distance as to not become too overwhelmed.

It’s only later, in bed, you in the middle instead of Frisk, that anyone speaks.

It’s Aishi.

“Fuck this shit, our insurance covers it now, so we’re all hauling it off to therapy.”

Okay. She takes you in, wrapping you up like she did when you were eleven, horrible at English and scared of thunderstorms. It’s pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...?  
Please, I implore you, if you find any errors here in the way I described certain feelings, please t e l l m e
> 
> Also- In this universe, your SOUL trait generally can't be changed, DETERMINATION is just weird that way.  
And, before the barrier broke, humans had normal eye colours for the most part. Only after Magic came back did any of the weird crap go down. And yes, in stressful times, eyes can dull to grey.
> 
> About COVID-19 (or Coronavirus)  
I beg of you all, please please wash your hands and wear a mask when you leave the house. I'm Indian, and stuff's already going really badly because a lot of people refuse to stay in or keep themselves clean. Stay safe!!
> 
> Word Count for this chapter: 2470 (These things are getting longer by the update. My old Wattpad self would be mind-blown.)


	14. you're stuck in my head and i can't get you out of it (if i could do it all again, i know i'd go back to you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frisk may be willing to tell an old secret, Asriel has fluffy blankets, and some things are going to start happening sooner than expected.
> 
> Title from [Back to You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulNswX3If6U) by Selena Gomez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So...it's been an age and a half since this has updated.
> 
> I found a notebook a while ago, with some unwritten SevenTale chapters, and while I'm not super active in the Undertale fandom, I want to finish these chapters so that they don't weigh me down. I've been working on a new series, too, called [lost in a dream i had when i was young (no, i never woke up from it)](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942549) from the Cursed Child fandom, which is also very gay. It's my primary focus right now, but who knows? Maybe writing these leftover chapters will bring back some mojo for these stories! We'll see. In the meantime, enjoy!
> 
> Otherwise, it'd be good for you all to know that things like An-Li's DID are not going to be brought up from here on out, because as important as it is for DID and other related conditions to get good representation, I am not an authority on the subject, and don't have much of a right to write about it. it'll be edited out of the story, gradually, as soon as I find the time. other things I very much should not have written about are also going to steadily disappear.

**/ f r i s k /**

It’s breakfast, a week after most of the chaos, when it slips out by accident.

Sans is over, and you’re joking around together, when he makes the eighth mid-life crisis joke in context to you. Now, you’ve never had a midlife crisis before, so you’re not sure why it’s being mentioned.

“Why’re we doing this midlife crisis thing, Sans?” you ask. He makes eye contact with you, because he clearly know something you don’t but he expects you to know it too.

“Didn’t you _have _one? Isn’t that why we RESET twenty-four years late?” He asks, and you remember that last timeline, and the shitshow that its ending was. You shake your head vigorously as hell, and lower your voice a bit because Amma just entered the room.

“Nooo! I was in the military after I turned eighteen, and I died via stray bullet.” You snicker, because even Sans can see the parallels to your first ever death via flower petals, and soon you’re both snickering messes, drawing Amma’s attention (more than it already was, what with your whispering like rouges in a tavern) to the two of you.

“What’s so funny?” And you use your learned ability to lie on the spot again <del> and again and again and again till again doesn’t sound like a word anymore</del> to tell her that you were making jokes about flowers, because while that’s not technically a lie, you’re pretty sure Amma would not be cool with you joking about guns and bullets and death so soon after waking up from the hospital.

Amma smiles, and you can tell that the lie gives her relief, and the dark circles under her eyes (<del>your fault your fault YOUR FAULT</del>), from the shooter become less prominent.

Raina hangs around behind you, and, disapprovingly as it is, gives you a thumbs up.

As soon as Amma looks away from you two however, you know that the lie probably didn’t work, for all her muttering about dark humour under her breath.

…

The next time it happens is when you’re at An-Li’s house with Jacob, Chara hanging closely behind. An-Li greets all three of you, and Jacob waves in Chara’s vague direction, as they try to make themselves look a bit more corporeal for a few moments to help him out. 

They’re getting stronger everyday, and you can’t wait for them to step into the light.

It’s the four of you talking, later, after finishing your sent-back work, that the four of you are talking together, piled up as a tangle of limbs. Jacob mentions something about the military, and how he might want to enlist, till Chara (who’s given up being visible in favour of being audible) very loudly says that’s a terrible idea, because of that time when F- -

“Not now, Chara!” you think VERY LOUDLY in your head and Chara drops it. They all still look relatively confused, but noticing Chara’s silence and your own discomfort, they leave you alone. After a few minutes of oddly stilted silence, conversation starts up again, with little mind to what went down just earlier, and you are grateful for it.

Raina looks at you again, decidedly less happy, though Michelle and Toco have joined in too this time.

Great, you mentally groan. When can I tell them?

_Whenever you want_, Raina says back, _but don’t wait too long_, she warns.

Okay. You start formulating a plan in your head, and resolve to being it up with Azzy that night.

…

“You want to tell them about… the multiple times you’ve died?” Azzy asks, when you peek into his room later that night. He’s folding up his bed sheets, and clearly has no plans to sleep that night. With how loud your head has been lately, you don’t plan on it either. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t tell them about the fact that you were Flowey.” He widens his eyes, and walks up to you, grabbing your hand at the wrist and plopping you on his bed with him. He unfolds his blanket, and drapes the two of you over with it (three after he notices the red flash of Chara in the middle), the way you always did before the others burst into your head and you started feeling the need to stop coming here.  
“Yeah, so Frisk wants to tell the story of the multiple times they’ve died. What’s your death count anyway, Frisky?” Chara says, and you can tell that jovial as they sound, it’s also a question. Do you remember?

“It’s four-fifty, I think. Fifty one if we add in the military.” you say, burrowing yourself a little deeper in this blanket fort, stroking the fur on Asriel’s arm, because he likes that. If Chara’s to be believed, then he always has.

“Mmhm. How do you think your friends would feel about the fact that you died four hundred and fifty one times?” Azzy says, cool and collected, because that’s the kind of person he is these days. He’s very good at straight faces. You don’t know the answer to his question.

Raina pops out, and the three of you look at her, as she prepares to say something, Michelle at her heels as usual. Bridget must have also wanted to hear this, and she comes our too, Mike sleeping, hanging off of her shoulders as she plops down sort of…through Asriel and you? It’s strange, but you don’t feel anything, so Raina coughs and continues.

“What if you…didn’t give them the _exact_ death count? Not immediately anyways. You could break it to them over time, but specify in the beginning that you have died on more than one occasion. that could work, right?” They put their hand under their chin, and indicate at Michelle to continue. Clearing her throat, she does.

“Sure, that’s not a nice thing to say at all, but what with your very accurate knowledge on fatal wounds that even your primary school days can’t cover, and your absurd pain tolerance, this is something that they may have already suspected. I mean, they know Sans has some inkling of what was going on, and how RESET’s work, even if they don’t know that it applies to you.”

You look at them, then at Asriel, then at Chara and Bridget. This could actually work! You thank them profusely, and mind-hug them the best you can till they become corporeal again. Then, Asriel burrows himself in your torso, and Chara sits right next to the two of you, non-corporeal limbs outstretched to fill in the gaps youth have left for them. You spend the night discussing specifics, and then you start talking about nothing at all, and in the end, none of you are talking because you’ve all drifted off, with neutral to pleasant dreams for once.

You don’t realise that Raina and Michelle used their actual voices, from real vocal chords that night, instead of that mentally labeled speech till morning, but when you do, you call everyone out and squeal for ten minutes straight because you’re _close, so goddamn close_ that it just seems worth squealing about.  
…  
You’re decidedly less euphoric that afternoon, because even of you’ve found a viable way to tell your friends that you’ve died multiple times, you still have to tell them that you’ve died multiple times.

Jacob and An-Li walk in, decidedly apprehensively with the text ‘can we talk?’ given about an hour earlier. You feel bad, but there’s nothing left to do now.

You tell them, slowly, but rather bluntly, that you have died, that you’ve seen them die, even if you don’t specify how. From the looks on their faces, they’ve probably guessed. And as unpleasant as that thought is, it’s worse to see them cry, when they figure out that the number of times you’ve died is very obviously not low. They’re your friends, after all. Your brilliant, multilingual friends who of course are smart enough to figure out that the number of scars corresponds directly to the number of deaths. It used to be hard for you to accept your own demise, but you’d sorted that shit out three RESET’s ago, so you coach Jacob and An-Li through it, Chara remaining a steady voice throughout, and later that evening when the tears are dry, you stay up till the stupid hours watching a Web Series, Sanders Sides, that you found recently, which just feels like a scaled-up version of the BS in your own head. You may just be an Analogical stan now.

But, overall, it’s alright in the end. Maybe your parents will never know, maybe you’ll tell them if they really do need to know, but for now, things are okay, and that’s how they’re going to stay for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are really appreciated!
> 
> I have a [writing blog](blue-also-writes-now.tumblr.com)! consider checking those out!


	15. wide awake, i lay beside you (it's in the middle of the night and i really want to)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara steps into the light
> 
> Title lyrics from [Best Friend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZotF8rui9s) by Ingrid Michaelson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hallowe'en! And Dia de Los Muertos if you celebrate it! I have wanted to do this chapter all week but as it turns out I am AMAZING at procrastinating! Well, I hope you liked this one anyways. Next thing I write should be for my other (very gay because I like spiting homophobes and transmophobes) Harry Potter and The Cursed Child series, [Lost in a dream!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942549) so watch out for that any time this November haha.
> 
> Enjoy!

You could feel it happening. You were almost _almost)_ ready to come back, properly anyways. Everything tingled, felt more solid, It was like rolling pop rocks in your mouth, but that feeling encapsulated your whole body. Frisk knew it too, the pain in their shoulder feeling less all-encompassing whenever the tingles started for them, and a better mood spreading throughout the headspace. Everyone’s voices would be a bit clearer, and someone other than Frisk would be able to hear them better, and you could handle being corporeal for hours at a time, as your red glow started fading, day by day, and you could start straying unto fifteen metres from Frisk (not that you did it particularly often).

Other people started to notice your voice, even when you weren’t tying to project your voice to the others, and it took nearly no energy to become corporeal. It was your default state by now.

You and Frisk were talking on their bed, An-Li and Jacob having gone home that day, Asriel sleeping because it was the day before a test, and while even Frisk had school tomorrow, the excitement running through your (slowly separating) veins was making you both jittery enough to forget the concept of sleeping on time. You were perched at the foot of the bed, avoiding Frisk’s feet for once, because it would actually be uncomfortable now. It was strange, to know that you could technically vanish again, but not really want to at all. The last time you were this corporeal, you were seething at every human you knew, wishing yourself gone from ten all. Now, all of a sudden, it’s been a century and there are monsters and _humans_ who love you so, so much and are waiting for your return with so much excitement that you can feel it every time they manage to touch you- electric and fuzzy and also _home_ in a way you never could have imagined back then.

Yo tell this to Frisk and they take both of your hands and pull you onto their blanketed lap from way across the bed, and hold you close and bury their face into your shoulder and tell you that everyone has people like that for them, and that yours just happened to arrive a century late. You giggle when they blow a raspberry into your shoulder, and if the sound is a little wet with the tears that you’re holding back because you can _feel_ the raspberry on your skin, freckles and all, then Frisk says nothing.

_(Besides, they’re the ones letting you cry it out no more that two minutes later, when the wind chooses through the window, ruffling up your hair.)_

…

Coming back happens very softly, slowly, as you’ve come to realise. You didn’t know that you were done until one day, you were trying to poof out one night like you usually do, but you don’t poof out. It’s supremely strange, and then your body starts feeling heavy, but the good kind, not the depressed-haze kind, and all of a sudden you’re **thump**-ing back onto Frisk’s bed while they let out a big _whoosh_ of breath and clasp your hand as if they’re doing it for the first time, lacing their fingers through yours, when you realise that it’s done, that you’re home and the last remnants of the red mist fade from the edges of your limbs and the excited screeching of the others leaves your head, and all of a sudden you feel very full and very hollow all at once, mourning the loss of excited children in your head while leaning into the contact that is your best friend’s (two, electric boogaloo, because Asriel is first, always) hand, callouses fading and soft against yours, while the other tiredly (_very tiredly_) combs through your head.

You lift your head up (heavy, _heavy_) to meet Frisk’s eyes for the first time since you came back, and the red that was always in one is gone, replaced with a brown that you saw once, very briefly, before red took over and you lodged yourself into their head. It’s pretty, like the tree that you see outside Frisk’s window, calm, reflecting. They smile with you, slow, because the amount of magic that their body must have let go of to return you must have been intense. So you hoist yourself up onto your elbows like you did for Azzy so many times, grin a bit (and it feels real enough to hurt in a lovely way) and push their eyes shut, gently, a nonverbal telling them to get some sleep.

You crawl up next to them, leaning your head onto their shoulder, and bury yourself under the (very very soft) duvet, because hey, there’s always tomorrow.

…

In the morning, Frisk comes downstairs, leaning onto the railing, shoulder aching a bit, but Chara’s hand first on their arm on the other side. They stop at the bottom, and tell Chara, quietly to surprise Azzy, and that they’ll catch up like they always do. Right now they need to text Jacob and An-Li. So Chara goes, because Frisk always catches up eventually, hell or high water.

Asriel is louder, but not too loud, bawling (because he’s still just a child, how could Chara have forgotten) while clutching Chara’s sweater, technically the same one Azzy knitted for them all those years ago, because ghost clothes stick around or something, and Chara grips back, just as tightly, because they’ve missed their brother too, so much, so they kiss the top of Asriel’s fluffy head, and don’t call him a crybaby, because hey, they’re crying too.

Amma and Dan zip back home the second Asriel texts them both the news, Amma hoisting Chara up on her broad shoulders like she has for Frisk and Asriel and Jacob and An-Li and now Chara and Dan whoops, hands gesticulating wildly the way he always does when it comes to his family being happy, and right now everyone is _ecstatic_.

When Mom and Dad get back from the school and the florist’s, Asriel leads Chara over to them, and that’s when they really start crying, muffling quiet, wet _”I’m sorry”_’s into their clothes, while they pat their child’s back with their paws (strong, firm, kind, loving) and tell the redhead that it’s okay, that you’re forgiven, even though Chara knows it’ll take the a few years to believe it.

Sans and Papyrus come over later, Undyne and Alphys in tow, and while all Sans says is make a horrific pun about Chara being taller than him, and Papyrus just squeezes them till they kind of can’t breathe, the share looks in the corner of their eyes, _thank you’s_ and _you’re welcome’s_ throughout the night. Undyne yells her hellos and looks like she’s about to happily suplex something, and as glad as Chara is that she and her girlfriend are happy, they’d rather not deal with a beaten-up parlour. (_Frisk keeps telling them that it’s a Living Room, but Chara says “Well, I’m not really alive, so?” and they fall into peals of laughter and drop the subject_)

Frisk comes back from school, leaning on Jacob and An-Li for support this time, since all the other six have been called out for their congratulations, while Jacob and An-Li themselves sit frisk down onto the sofa, and hug Chara separately, and they’re reminded exactly how different hugs can feel, because Jacob’s are soft and squishy, courtesy of the sweater and skirt he wore to school today, and he essentially picks Chara up and spins them around a bit, and it feels joyful nd excited all at once.

An-Li’s are happy affairs, but they’re calmer, like a healer’s. Her hugs are all-encompassing, as if you’re safe now, you can rest, because An-Li will take care of it.

Frisk’s feel like the kind of hug a sibling gives, because they have the feeling of safety imbued throughout, with a bit more protectiveness than An-Li and a little less excitement and spontaneous joy than Jacob. Or that could be the exhaustion. Who knows.

What you do know is that that night is the best that you’ve felt in a very, very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this new chapter! Kudos'a re great and comments give me life!
> 
> P.S: Have any you seen the new Sanders Asides? Because HOLY COW I AM IN LOVE WITH NICO FLORES (i wasn't gay I'd have a crush on my hands)
> 
> [my writing blog!](https://blue-also-writes-now.tumblr.com)


	16. announcement two: electric boogaloo

Okay, so I've re-read this again, and i've realised that the only way I can lay this story to rest is to REWRITE THE WHOLE THING! So while this version of SevenTale is going to continue to stay up, I am rewriting ALL THE CHAPTERS (even that horrific prologue), and that will be the new version of SevenTale for yall to read


End file.
